With a little help from my friends
by ilvbrwns
Summary: The years have passed and it is now time for the old gang of PS.118 to reunite. For Arnold. Maybe, for once, they're the ones that will help him figure things out...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Howdy! So, I've been reading through my old fanfics instead of working (priorities) and I while going through the first one I ever wrote, it made me realized how much I've missed watching Hey Arnold! After finding a couple of episodes on Youtube, I came up with this story! Hopefully you'll like, and most importantly hopefully, I will finish it! To increase the chances of that happening, I'm planning to make this two or three chapters long! And the whole thing is planned at least.

There's probably grammar mistakes in there (like a lot) so apologies in advance!

Have a good read!

Oh yeah, and I own nothing! Doi!

* * *

Looking back on it, the day Arnold buried is grandmother was probably one of the worst days of his life. But in the end, it was also one of his bests.

Now, you must not judge him poorly for feeling this way.

Arnold wasn't a terrible human being or anything. He loved his grandmother, dearly. She had taken him in, raised him, fed him, sung to him, told him jokes, and invented stories for him. She was his mother for better and for worse. You see his real mother had died long before her. Arnold, after hanging onto the dream that she would one day come back to him for the first 14 years of his life, finally found it easier to decide that if she was not with him it was because there was no way she could.

And so his grandmother, he admitted it, was the only mother he was ever going to know. She was a crazy old lady that didn't make sense most of the time. She was the best possible mom anyone could ever hope for.

That's why the day he buried her was one of the worst days of his life.

Now we shall tell you why it was also, paradoxically, one of the best. You know, just so you didn't think Arnold was crazy or anything.

-HA-

Exactly ten years before his grandmother was buried, Helga Pataki had shown up on Arnold's doorstep. It was raining and yet she hadn't been wearing any coat. Just some ugly, deep blue hoody that was drenched and dripping onto his floor. She wanted to tell him something.

Many, many times in the future, Arnold would think back to this moment: the moment where he had ruined his life. He remembered Helga's eyes never looked so blue.

"I love you." She had said. "I've always loved you. I'm fairly certain I always will, although no one could promise such a thing and ever be entirely sure. But Arnold, I'm pretty convinced that even if you ever get terribly ill and depressed, or fat, or mean, or crazy or even if you become a psycho killer, I would still love you. Because what I do know, to my very core, is that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I mean I've had the shittiest life. I'm not going to go on about Olga or Miriam or even Bob. I'm not going to review all the shitty beyond shitty moment that have defined the shitty person I am today. I'm just going to say that it has all been fucking worth it, and I would go through it again without the shadow of a doubt, because you were there Arnold. You were there when I needed an umbrella that day, you were there when I wanted a friend. You were there when I looked for guidance and support. Fuck! You were even there when you weren't you know? I think you have the most beautiful soul that has ever walked this earth and I don't even believe in that spiritual crap. But you, you make me believe. In anything… I don't know, in life I guess? I know you know this already. I'm not telling you because I'm hoping that maybe you'll feel the same. I know I'm too tall and too skinny. I know I'm never going to be pretty or polite or particularly funny. I know my hair doesn't shine and that my eyes don't sparkle and that no one particularly likes me because, lets face it, I'm a massive pain in the ass. I know I'll never deserve you. But I just wanted you to hear it. Sometimes, you should just say things out loud. There are too many opportunities, moments that define where you will end up, where you could say so many things and yet you don't. Well I didn't want to look back on this moment, and feel like you never knew, as you should, how much I love you."

She stopped talking and it was like it was the first time he ever really looked at her. He'd seen Helga Pataki almost every day of his life since he could remember, but this was the moment when he saw her.

"I want you to know that I will always be there." Helga whispered.

He didn't know if tears were running on her cheeks or if it was only the rain. He'd never imagined Helga Pataki crying, you see. Than she said:

"Goodbye Arnold."

Arnold never replied anything that day Helga Pataki showed up on his doorstep. And he never saw her again.

-HA-

Gerald Johanssen was not a worrier. In fact, if were a song or a saying, he would probably be called "Hakuna Matata". Gerald was the very definition of chilled. Relaxed. Or any other synonyms which qualified that could be added right there, to the list. To be fair, life had never really given him any reason to be too troubled. He was handsome, successful, charming, funny, and engaged to be married with the single best woman that ever walked this earth. Her name, by the way, was Phoebe.

But today, Gerald was worried, very worried, about his best friend. He had been seeing the signs for a while. Seeing without really seeing. You can do that you know? See but not see. Maybe he didn't want to admit it. Maybe he had been too selfish, too unwilling to see a stain on the perfection that was his life, to accept the fact. Arnold was not alright. Far from it.

Arnold. His brother. His best friend. Of course no one was expected to be alright when a loved one was staying at the hospital, with a terminal illness. Especially when this someone was an amazing grandmother, a mother even, to the person in question.

But Arnold hadn't been doing so good long before that. For almost ten years now.

If Gerald was being honest with himself, it had probably started the day Helga Pataki had disappeared.

Fucking Helga Pataki. One day everyone wished she was gone, the next they were all praying she would show up with some dumb pink bow on her wheat-colored head.

The police looked everywhere but there was no trace of her.

No one had seen her waiting for the bus.

She hadn't been spotted at the train station.

No money had been taken from her account, no number found on her phone that would have given any indications to where she could have gone.

Her parents had no clue, her teachers had no clue, the people who she worked with after school, they had no clue either.

But the worst, the worst was that the last person that had seen her, the night she had seemingly evaporated into thin air, had not been able to help either. That person felt he was responsible. That person was Arnold.

Of course, Gerald had understood, even at sixteen, that his best friend would feel that way. Arnold had always been a very caring and sensitive person. The dude practically lived to look after other people. Fucking Papa Theresa. Of course, Gerald had understood that Arnold was upset, that he felt guilty, felt he should have been the goddamn messiah that saved Helga Pataki from herself. The girl was trouble. She was always going to snap. Gerald was almost glad no one had gotten hurt.

Arnold though, wasn't like Gerald. He wasn't almost relieved. Like some weight had been lifted, like life would somehow be easier now. Now that he didn't have to look away every time he crossed path with the pale, skinny looking girl. The girl with bags under her eyes, and bruises on her arms which everyone pretended weren't there. Bob Pataki was a wealthy man after all. Practically owned Hillwood, the bastard.

The tragic reminders of his unlimited power were his youngest daughter's desperate eyes, seeking but never finding any help. So yes Gerald, like most, had almost been relieved she was gone. At first at least. But not Arnold. Arnold felt terrible.

And Gerald had understood his guilt.

It had taken a while, though, for him to understand that Arnold was irrevocably in love with Helga Pataki.

-HA-

Lila was trying to cheer him up. He could tell she was doing her best. She was being really sweet actually, not that it was any kind of a surprise. Lila was an angel. Sometimes, he thought they were very much alike, he and her. They dreamed, they hoped, they stood like pillars on which everyone around them could rely on.

It makes sense to be with her. They have been on and off for what seem like forever now.

She's beautiful, Lila. Her hair takes on the color of autumn leaves, her creamy white complexion embellishes her classical features and a tempting pair of pink, full lips always seems to know when to stretch out in a heart-warming smile.

She is small, but well-proportioned and when they make love he feels they fit to perfection.

"Is there anything else I can do? Do you want me to buy some groceries?"

She had already cleaned to whole damn place and found time to talk with Grandpa too, making sure he was doing ok. Arnold does not have the strength. He has strength for nothing these days. Since his Grandfather had moved in with him, he wasn't sure who took care of who.

"I wouldn't mind a bottle of scotch." He replies in a flat tone.

He feels bad about it, knowing he should be more grateful for what Lila has been doing for him, since he had heard about his grandma's condition and completely shut himself in his room. He knows he should. Lila has the patience of saint and he's lucky to have her. But right know he just doesn't give a damn. Like in that book except he has no strength to leave.

Lila doesn't show any sign of hurt though. In fact she seems pretty happy because that's probably the most Arnold has spoken in a while. Even though it's just to ask for some alcohol.

She frowns though, for good measure.

"No Arnold, I don't think that is a good idea."

By that she means, "I don't want you to down the whole bottle and do something stupid" but she's far too kind for that. Lila doesn't judge.

Whatever. Grandpa has a stash hidden somewhere anyway. He'll find it. There's nothing better to do right now.

"Gerald is going to come over later I think. Do you… do you want me to sleep over tonight? I don't mind. I can take my stuff and get up early to drive to work tomorrow? It could be nice?"

Arnold said nothing. Seems like that's his big thing with woman: saying nothing. He's a coward that's why. He's not telling Lila to let him go, when he knows he can never give her what she wants and deserves.

Just like for sixteen wasted years he hadn't told Helga. And now she was dead. Like his parents were and like his grandma would be, soon.

-HA-

The doorstep incident was the second time Helga had ever told Arnold she loved him. She had told him, once, when they had been mere children, with a fierce intensity that had completely freaked him out. She had denied it afterwards of course, it was ridiculously awkward after all. She blamed the heat of the moment. Arnold had chosen to believe her. But he was only a ten-year-old kid! He didn't even know what love was. He had excuses.

Six years later, on that rainy night, he did not.

Helga might have spoken of her feelings only twice but her action had been telling him about them everyday since they had met.

She told him she loved him by pushing him away. She told him she loved him by being crueler to him than to anybody else. She told him she loved him by showing up out of nowhere every time he needed help. She told him she loved him with all her selfless gestures, some of which he would probably never know of. That killed him.

They were so young. How can you understand when you're just ten, that when someone picks on you incessantly and mocks you and bullies you, all they mean to say is "I love you"? You can't know. Arnold couldn't know. Yet he knew.

As they grew, Helga changed. Physically she'd gotten taller, much too tall in fact. She lost weight, too much weight as well. As for the pink bow in her hair, he wondered if it had disappeared the same day the pink tint was gone from her cheeks.

She wore jeans that were too large and colorless tops that were too old. She didn't make any sense, Helga. Her cheekbones were too high, her eyes too blue. So blue. Unreal.

She made everyone uncomfortable, silently imposing her unhappiness onto their shoulders when she crossed their path. Arnold wasn't uncomfortable though. He was never sure why.

Maybe because she loved him and reminded him everyday.

She reminded him with her discreet smiles every time he needed one. Or with the notes she would slip to him in class, when he needed help. She always seemed to know when he needed her actually.

Like, once, when he had failed one of his football games and she had slipped a witty little text about sore losers into his locker. A poem. She had written it herself. It was funny and challenging. Like her.

Or when he had gotten ridiculously drunk one night, leaving the party he was at and finding himself lost in the middle of nowhere like some pathetic idiot, only to be rescued and driven home by her. He had felt so stupid. But instead of mocking him like he thought she would, she had spent the entire ride confessing all the times she had drank too much too. How could he not know she loved him then? He must have known.

There was one day, though.

The day he decided his parents were never coming home, and he was done waiting. Done hoping. He was moving on. The day he thought, he became an adult.

He wanted to be alone, because he didn't want to explain. He didn't want to talk or hear any bullshit about "maybe one day" or about how "you know they must have loved you very much". When you love your kid you don't leave them. And if you do, you make damn sure you come back.

So Arnold didn't want to talk that day, didn't want to pretend like he was still the optimistic kid he once was. Just for a day he wanted to be allowed the swallow in negativity.

She had shown up, and like she could read his mind, she had sat next to him and had said nothing. Not a word. She just stayed there and stared as the sun sat behind clouds. She stayed as the night fell and it got cold and she started shivering, not uttering one single fake line of comfort.

That was the thing with Helga Pataki. She always knew. She knew what to say, and she knew when to say it. She read him like a book with those big, beautiful eyes of hers.

How could he not know she loved him then? When she stood in the cold for hours without saying a thing. She moved, only when he did, and she followed him home to make sure he'd be ok.

He did know. The whole time he did. But he had been too blind to see the obvious. That he loved her too. And sadly, it had been the only thing Helga had not seen either.

-HA-

The way Gerald knew Arnold was in love with Helga was like this.

It started out one afternoon with a conversation with his girlfriend of a few month, near the end of their last year of high school.

"Pheebs, I'm going to see Arnold."

Gerald was heading out to his friend's place, his mind set on being there for him from now on. Arnold was always there for other people well, it was damn time someone started giving back. Someone apart from Arnold's girlfriend Lila that is.

"Wait."

Gerald's girl delicately grabbed onto his hand. She knew what he intended to do and even though she understood where Gerald came from, understood he only wanted to help Arnold, she wasn't sure he knew the right way to do so.

"Promise me you will be carful with him." She had asked him softly.

"Well of course I'll be car-"

She cut him off.

"Arnold is good, Gerald. And you know, there isn't nearly enough good people in this world. We forget that sometimes, how lucky we are to have good in our lives, how rare that is. Now I'm not saying you're not a good guy. It's just that Arnold is different. He has a… a kind of pure heart. He doesn't always sees or feels things like us."

They didn't say anything for a while, Phoebe looking for her words, Gerald reflecting on what she had just said. They were still so young, then. But Phoebe, she had always been wise beyond her years. And losing her oldest friend had only intensified this trait of character.

"Unfortunately life has been hard on him." She went on. "He's lost too many people. I think it's hard for us to understand someone like Arnold, so it is hard to be there for him. You know?" She hugged Gerald then, feeling his sorrow. "It doesn't mean we can't try though. Doesn't mean we can't be there even if we're not this one special person who really gets him."

He nodded. Could he help Arnold? He didn't know, but he was certainly going to try.

"Yeah" he said "I may not be Lila, but I can still be the best friend that I can."

Phoebe smiled sadly.

"I wasn't talking about Lila." She had said

But he didn't hear her. Well he heard but he didn't listen, not really. It's a rare thing for people to really listen.

He got out of Phoebe's house, climbed into his car, and drove, determined, to make Arnold see sense. This was the day things were going to change. This was the day he was going to get his friend to talk and help get him pass this…this incident that was nobody's fault. It certainly wasn't Arnold's fault that crazy girl had bolted. If anything it was her parent's fault.

Arnold was in his room watching his ceiling. He liked to do that in order to process his thoughts, Gerald understood that at least. Well too much thinking was never a good thing. Gerald was certain, because he didn't think twice about stuff and he got around just fine thank you very much. And he was going to give Arnold a piece of his mind:

"Man, I ain't beating around the bush and getting all emotional and shit. You need to get out of this fucking room, get some air, see some people… Hell! You need to live Arnold! You've done your share, you've felt guilty long enough. No one blames you for Pataki! No one ever did. It's been almost a year now… She might never come back. That sucks. I know. I'm not going to pretend I liked the girl, but still it fucking sucks. And yes, I get it, you feel responsible. But you don't need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. What could you have done Arnold?"

The blond teen didn't respond. He stared on. Gerald was growing frustrated.

"Are you listening? Let go dude! Free your mind! It's not because she had this…weird obsession with you, that you could have done anything—"

"She ruined my life."

It was almost a whisper so Gerald wasn't sure he heard right. He responded the best he could.

"Well, I guess she was a pain in this ass, especially in primary, but—"

Arnold interrupted him again.

"You know she was always there? Because she was. There isn't a time I remember without Helga. She's like… water or food or light, she's a constant thing. She was always there."

Gerald sighed, feeling this was going to be a long night.

"Yeah, I guess it's been weird, hasn't it? We've known her since we were kids."

Arnold stopped staring at the ceiling and sat up on his bed, choosing to face him instead of the clouds.

"She was always going to be there… I guess I thought there was time. But did we know her? I wanted to. I tried. She was so hard to read. I know she liked wrestling. I know she liked hard rock; but I also know she liked classical music even more. I know she didn't eat ketchup, except with these fried they use to serve at Joe's café. I know she wrote poems too. They were amazing. Not that I understand anything about poetry."

Well what Gerald didn't know, now, was what to say. Arnold went on.

"I always felt like someday I would understand her like she understood me. And then, I could tell her. But then one day, she's just gone. There nothing left of her, nothing to try to understand except where she might be. Before she disappeared the last thing she said to me was that I had the most beautiful soul she had ever seen. And you know what I said? Nothing! I mean what do you say to that?"

Gerald rolled his eyes.

"She was mental, no doubt—"

"How do you go on when someone loved you so completely, so unconditionally, when they loved every tiny little bit of you, and then you lose them? I mean how am I supposed to move on from that? Huh? From now on, when I'm with someone who says they love me, all I'm ever going to think is "but not like her. You'll never know love like her. You'll never be her.' She ruined me for everyone and everything else Gerald." Arnold concluded, face in hands.

And that's how Gerald knew his best friend was in love with Helga. The fool.

And because he didn't how to deal with this, Gerald left without a word.

-HA-

One time, Helga had shown up at his place, unexpected. She had climbed into his room you see. She did that sometimes.

Arnold was pleasantly surprised because it had been awhile and he had missed her. But he knew you couldn't go to Helga, you always had to wait until she came to you.

There were marks on hers arms, traces of Bob's anger covering her body. She wasn't talking, sitting in a corner with her head between her knees. It broke his heart. Another hint, that it had, in fact, always belonged to her.

"Helga, this can't go on. We have to call the police."

She always begged him not too.

She had explained that if the law enforcement had trouble dealing with people beating up their kids, when confronted to rich people who did, they always shut their eyes.

Beside my dad owns the police, she had argued. He has many friends there, friends he pays. Do you really think they don't already know?

But that night, Arnold would hear none of it.

"There must be something they can do, they could move you somewhere at least."

Helga just shook her head, resolved.

"What about social services?" Arnold insisted. "Let me help you Helga! Please? One day, he's going to kill you and it'll kill me because I won't have done a thing to stop him."

Helga had placed her palms on his cheeks, and had frantically searched into his eyes, with the hope that he was only provoking her.

"Listen to me football head." She had said. "This is very important. None of this is your fault. My life isn't your fault. You've done more than enough for me! You've been my friend. It's the only thing keeping me going sometimes. I want you to remember that!"

Her eyes were blazing with an intensity that he had never seen before. She was begging him to believe her, he could tell. How could she ask him to remain silent? Why wasn't anybody helping her? Why wasn't she allowing him to help her? He could help! That's what he did, he helped! But she never let him do it for her.

"You help by being here Arnold." She had said

He never knew what to say to her. She deserved so much more than his empty words. She needed to be away from her father, safe. Couldn't she see what it did to him, seeing her like this? Arnold never got angry. But when Helga Pataki, the bravest girl he knew, showed up at his place shaking like a leaf, Arnold always boiled in anger.

"You can't keep asking me to stand aside, and watch as you get paler, and thinner, with more bruises on you every day!" he had yelled. "You can't keep asking me to do that! I'm going to look for a way out Helga! He'll leave you alone, I'll make him! I swear!"

He had meant it too. Helga had looked at him desperate and afraid.

A week later, she was gone.

-HA-

Gerald came over later and found Arnold almost passed out in his living room.

"I'm a coward." His blond friend said. "I don't deserve Lila. And I certainly didn't deserve Helga either. And now she's gone."

Gerald had never been one to worry, but he was worried now. Arnold hadn't been ok since the day Helga had disappeared, and now he was about to lose another person he loved. And Gerald wasn't sure he could handle it. Not sure anyone could help him handle it.

He was certain though, that there was only one thing he could do.

He needed to find Helga G. Pataki.

And he was going to need some serious help.

-HA-

The first years of high school, Arnold stopped speaking to Helga entirely. It wasn't that he was ignoring her or avoiding any type of interaction. But when all the kids of PS.118 reached high school, things just changed. New friendships were made, yet some were lost. Friends were replaced with boyfriends or girlfriends. Everyone was discovering new people with similar new interests. The children were growing up. And sometimes life has a way of driving people apart, even when they had never intended it to. That's what happened for Arnold and Helga. To be fair though, the boy had felt a bit awkward around her since the "love confession" incident. Had Helga been kidding? No, why would she joke about such a thing? But she couldn't really love him though, could she? After a while, Arnold found it easier to forget about the issue. Helga was back to her old, bullying ways, and it seemed they would never bring their repressed feelings back into the open. He met other people, who all had their own load of drama to occupy him with. Classes got more difficult. And there were sports too. Arnold managed to make the football team, along with Gerald. The two of them, at least, maintained a close friendship. Some things changed, yet it was always a bit the same in the end.

One day, though, the unimaginable happened. Arnold received a couple of hours of detention. Now, he didn't remember what it was for. Kissing Lila in public? Returning a paper late? Being rude in class? Or was it all some unjust misunderstanding with a teacher who hated him for now reason? It does not really matter, to this day, why it happened. What matter is that day in detention Helga Pataki was there.

She walked in late, hair falling out of a messy bun in loose strands. Her eyes were heavily underlined with black, contrasting her pale skin.

"Pataki. So kind of you to join us." The teacher had said.

She ignored him, rolling her eyes while nonchalantly taking a seat a few rows across from Arnold.

"What was it you did this time? Showed up in class intoxicated? I wouldn't be surprise to discover that was habit of yours." The teacher insisted harshly.

Apparently, he didn't like Helga very much. He had looked at her the way one would stare at an outdated piece of moldy cheese.

Helga held his gaze though.

"I've never been drunk on school premises, _sir_." She denied.

The man seemed to drop it and returned to his book, a frown still painted on his face. And that's when she added in flat tone:

"I was high."

Arnold chuckled at the statement.

Not that he approved of Helga's behavior. He was aware she had a very shady group of friends. Other students found it wise to avoid them. Actually, Arnold was pretty sure some of them didn't even go to school. They just hanged around smoking cigarette after cigarette and staring intensely at others, daring anyone to say a thing.

Yet, during detention, Arnold found that Helga was refreshing in her own way. Hanging around with the same type of people all day tended to get a bit… repetitive. He had forgotten about her dramatic eye rolls or her dry sarcasm. He realized he had missed her cynical jokes and cheeky comebacks. It all came back to him with only three little words.

She caught him staring at her and before he knew it he was smiling warmly. Without knowing why, he was telling her he was happy to see her again.

She didn't smile back. But something passed between them that day.

And that's when things started to shift.

-HA-

Stinky Peterson wasn't sure why he was sitting at a café with his old friends from high school. The whole gang from PS.118 was there as well, which was surprising to say the least. There was Harold, tall and broad, who had lost some of his weight over the years but still had a round, child-like face. He was a police officer now; the most cowardly kid, Stinky had ever known. Go figure.

Next was Sid, looking pretty smart in a nice, business suit. Apparently, he owned his company, which was doing well. Not sure all Sid did in there was quite legal, but what the heck? He hadn't been caught yet had he?

Then came the one and only Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, looking as good as he remembered. Rhonda was a fashion designer, married to some hot-shot film producer. Her life screamed perfection from her properly manicured fingernails to the tip of her fancy Stilettos.

Finally, there was Eugene, who was now teaching at their old primary school. Stinky could picture him acting around the way Mr. Simmons had, all about making his students feel 'special'. He had been a good teacher, just like Eugene was probably a good teacher now.

And as for himself, Stinky had opened up his own repair garage, which was running smoothly.

How things had changed since the days they had been running around, playing baseball or chasing ghosts. The years had changed them, driven them away.

But there had been a pact, established during a night of camping. Sid remembered it like it was yesterday. They had been lying in a field around a small campfire, eating s'mores. All of them were there, along with Phoebe, Arnold, and…Helga Pataki.

A promise had been made. If one of them needed any help, no matter when where or why, the others would come. It had been a kid's deal, one which shouldn't matter now. But the other day Stinky had gotten an e-mail, and apparently the others had too. "Arnold needs help" it had read. And so, against all odds, they were all here. Having coffee, back in Hillwood. Waiting.

It was Gerald Johanssen who had ordered the summit meeting. He arrived late and went strength to the point.

Stinky thought he did it on purpose, to make a better entrance.

"Guys, there's something wrong with Arnold."

That seemed to get everyone's attention, Rhonda thought.

Granted, they were all adults now and they had their own lives. During middle school, they had grown apart. And then there was graduation, and college and then just… being adult. But the group had a bond. It had taken them a while to realize this. They had needed to grow up, become mature enough, in order to see that there are some things that they didn't want to change.

Life has a way of setting people apart, but also a bringing them back together.

"His Grandma's at the hospital. He's going through a rough time." Explained Gerald.

"So he needs like moral support?" Sid questioned.

"You don't need to tell us to be there for Arnold! " Stinky cut in. "He's been a good friend to all of us since we were little kids. He can count on us!"

Everyone conquered. Arnold was one of the best people they knew. He had proven his loyalty and compassion to them many times over the years,

"I know that! "Gerald went on. "But there isn't much we can do. Arnold hasn't been himself lately. He barely comes out of his place, if only to go visit his grandma. He doesn't talk anymore. Guys, I don't recognize my friend! The guys who once believed every cloud had a sliver lining."

"Oh." Recalled Eugene fondly. "He was the most optimistic person in the world."

"Don't know." Rhonda intervened. "You could have given him a run for his money. Anyway what do you want us to do to help him Gerald? I mean we haven't seen him in a while. I don't know if we're the best suited people to bring him comfort."

Gerald took a sip of his mocha coffee (his favorite), in order to delay his response.

"We're not the ones that can help Rhonda." He finally agreed. "I know that, God knows I tried. In fact I think there's only one person in the world that can bring the old Arnold back. What I want is for you guys, to help me find that person.

Everyone blinked at him questioningly. Then Rhonda suddenly gasped, very loudly. SO loudly in fact, that Eugene jumped up and spilled his burning hot coffee on himself. But he said he was ok.

"Gerald Johanssen!" Rhonda exclaimed. "You better not be thinking what I'm thinking. Because if you're thinking what I'm thinking, then you might as well ask us to find the lost city of Atlantis."

"It's the only way Rhonda!" Gerald argued. "She's the only way."

At that point, Eugene seemed to realize what was going on. And he thought Rhonda made a fair point.

"Gerald, we wanna help, really we do. But what your asking for… it's impossible! People have tried and the girl's just gone!"

Stinky saw the light! Of course! Gerald wanted them to help him find_ her_ for Arnold.

"Might as well look for a needle in a haystack!" he complained. "The police couldn't even find her.

Sid blinked. Eureka! Helga Pataki! Who else?

"Gerald. What can we do that hasn't already been done by the police, her parents and all the people who cared for her, Arnold and your girlfriend included? I mean face it! Where would we even start?! It's been ten years!"

There was a big silence. It lasted about two minutes. Everyone was absorbed in his or her own thoughts. Then Harold burst out:

"I don't get iiiit! Who and what are you talking about? What's wrong with Arnold? And what were you saying about Atlantic city and haystacks?"

Gerald rolled his eyes. Of course Harold hadn't been following. He had hoped the man was actually going to say something useful… big mistake! But let's not forget this was Harold we were talking about.

"Great!" ironized Rhonda. "Gerald wants us to rescue Arnold from depression by bringing back someone that has been gone for like a decade, and the only cop of the group is not even catching on."

Harold just stared blankly at her, not knowing what to say. The words he was looking for were "_Say whaaaaat?"._

"Helga Pataki, you idiot!" the brunette yelled. "Gerald wants us to find Helga, for Arnold!"

"But…" Harold tried, confused. "Why?"

"BECAUSE HE LOVES HER!" Everyone else exclaimed.

"He does?"

"Of course he does Harold!" Eugene explained. "Everyone knew that. Well except her. And you apparently."

Harold put his face between his hands.

"Oh maaaan!" he whined some more. Stinky sympathetically patted him on the back.

Sid, on the other hand, decided to ignore Harold's despair at his own denseness and move on with the conversation.

"The point is Gerald, that it's all nice and well but there's no way we can find Helga."

Gerald slammed his fists on the table.

"Yeah? Well sixteen years ago everybody thought it would be impossible to save our neighborhood! And you know who saved it in the end? Arnold! Just like every time each and every single one of you had a problem, it was Arnold that came and helped! Everytime! Even if you had just been rude to him, even if all seemed lost! Even if it could get him into trouble, he always helped!"

Gerald paused to make sure he had his audience's attention. Suspense was key in motivational speeches. Good. They were hanging onto his every word. Well damn! He knew he should have gone into politics. But never mind that, let's get back to it!

"Today, the tables have turned: it's our turn to come to Arnold's aid! The time has come! This is IT! This is the way to repay him for his kindness. This is the moment to clear your debts, to do _the_ good deed of your life! This the opportunity to help Arnold at the time he needs it the most, by finding him the one thing he's always needed!... So what do you say?"

Eugene started clapping enthusiastically until Rhonda hit him on the head. But in the end, they had made a pact, and plus, this was Arnold. And let's face it, Gerald should definitely have gone into politics, because that was one of the best speeches they had ever heard.

They were going to have to do the impossible. They were going to have to bring back Helga. G. Pataki.

"But what if she's like dead though?"

"Dammit Harold!"

* * *

A/N: There you go! End of the first part! I hope it wasn't too confusing with the back and forth between time periods. I debated putting the past bits into italics? Basically you got three time periods here: teenage years before Helga disappears, teenage years after she disappears, and present day! It goes past-present-past-present and so on!

Will deliver the second part as soon as I can! Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Helloooo! Very sorry this took a while! I had a massive paper to write and then I left on holidays! The next chapter should be quicker to arrive, I promise!

More importantly: thanks sooo much for all the reviews! I wasn't expecting so many! I'm really glad some of you out there showed interest in this! I wanted to answer to each review privately (apparently you should do that now?) but the thing is… I don't know how! I've been using this website for 10 years or something, and private messaging is still a mystery to me. No laughs please! If anyone particularly generous feels like explaining that would be great!

Oh yeah, I also wanted to say I updated the first chapter (for grammar mistakes and all. There must be some left though).

ANYWAY, I'll let you get to it. Enjoy your read.

* * *

On the road toward the budding friendship between Arnold and Helga, there had been the time at the theater workshop. Helga had gotten into some kind of trouble again, (Arnold couldn't remember what about but something about defending Phoebe's honor) and had been forced in volunteering to help out. She was in charge of making people rehearse, participating in creating props, all that technical stuff. Luckily for everyone, she didn't complain (much) as it was better than community service. Under these conditions, the two had gotten the opportunity the reconnect some more, as Arnold had asked Helga to run lines with him.

He was going to play Mitch in the school's production of _A Streetcar Named Desire_. To say he wasn't ready for it was a euphemism, and since Helga had always displayed a certain talent in acting, he thought he'd ask her.

"Come on, Helga ! Please?"

"Has it not gone through that ridiculously shaped head of yours that I might have something better to do with my life Arnold-o?"

"Yes it has… and I don't care! Help me Helga Pataki. You're my only hope!"

But Helga was not impressed.

"Remind me why you're going to end up being in a play again?" the blond girl growled.

"Lila made me sign up with her at the beginning of the year and now I can't get out of it. Besides, an extra curricular activity won't hurt on my college application."

"Your college application will be fine hair boy! You always get really good grades, you're on the sports team…"

"I know! But it's got to be perfect if I want a shot at obtaining a scholarship Helga! My grandparents can't real afford to send me to university, unless I hit community college. It would be nice to expend my choices a bit."

"Alright, alright you big drama queen!" she groaned, exaggeratedly. "From the top!"

Arnold prepared himself and took a dramatic posture, while Helga delivered her line.

"_What did you do that for?"_ she asked silently.

He was surprised of how quickly she had gotten into character but had no chance to dwell on it. Time to shine:

"_So I can take a look at you good and plain_!" Arnold declared confidently.

Unfortunately, his performance didn't seem to have the effect he expected, as Helga burst out laughing.

"Oh man! That was even worst than I though it would be! You suck!" she mocked.

"Helga!" Arnold sighed. "Just tell me how I can improve! I know you're a great actress! I was in that _Romeo and Juliette_ play with you remember?"

"Yeah, yeah fine!" she conceded. "You're supposed to be upset in this scene, bucko! Sad, humiliated, disappointed. The girl you thought you loved has been lying to you all along. Now, again, from the top!" She put on the same, defeated expression she had on her face just a minute before. "_What did you do that for?" _she asked once more.

" _So I can take a look at you good and plain_!" Responded Arnold, more convincingly.

"_Of course you don't really mean to be insulting."_

"_No, just realistic."_

"_I don't want realism!" _

He didn't know how she managed it, but her eyes started to spark, a mix between tears and fierce determination.

"_I want magic!_" She went on, pleadingly_. "Yes, yes, magic! I try to give that to people. I misrepresent things to them. I don't tell truth, I tell what ought to be truth." _Her eyes were pouring everything she felt into Arnold's, silently begging him to believe her. He lost track of the fact that it was all an act. That Helga didn't mean it. That it was all Blanche. And that he was supposed to be somebody else, too. _ "__And if_ _that's sinful, then let me be damned for it!__"_ the blonde concluded.

Lines were gone from Arnold's head. All of his focus was on Helga. Her voice. Her posture. Her mysterious expression, taunting him to try and figure her out. Of course, that had always been impossible.

One instant the girl was crude and provocative, sending out scowls by the dozen; the next she was deep in thoughts, frantically writing lines into a little notepad, mumbling eccentric words while trying to keep her hair from falling onto her eyes. Helga could be focused and brilliant at times. It was like she had insights on things that no one could dare understand. She would look at you and it felt as if she could see into your mind, could uncover your darkest secrets, by grasping the depth of your very nature in the blink of an eye. Sometimes, Arnold felt bare in front of her. Like he could not compete.

Like right now.

"Wow, Helga! You really are a great actress!" he lamely managed to say, tongue a bit tied.

She gave him a small smile.

"Yeah well. I guess I always thought Blanche made a good point."

He was not sure what she meant by that, as it probably had a hidden meaning or something, but Arnold reached to place a comforting hand on her bare shoulder anyway. That's when she added:

"You still suck though."

This seemed to lighten the mood and so the two sat down together, chuckling.

"Hey Helga!" Arnold remarked after a little while. "Have you noticed how we always end up being stuck together somehow? Either it's school projects, detention or a similar holiday destination: it's like…fate! Or destiny! Or—"

"Bad luck?" Helga mocked, but without any real spite behind her words.

Arnold laughed good-heartedly.

"Well, I think it could be worst!" he then confided, good-naturedly.

Later, as he remembered this conversation, he would laugh at the irony of it all.

Because it seemed fate stopped being on their side right about then.

-HA-

"I've found out nothing! NOTHING!" Harold burst out, ready to fall on his knees in desperation.

The whole gang was sitting in Gerald's living room, to discuss how they were going to proceed with 'Operation Helga'. That's when Harold had lashed out into his little complaint.

"Harold!" Gerald tried to explain patiently, "It's been twenty-four hours. No one expects you to find anything that fast. Really its fine."

"Yeah relax! Rome wasn't built in a day!" Rhonda added, feeling surprisingly patient that afternoon.

Harold looked at her with wide, impressed eyes.

"Really? In how many days was it build Rhonda?" he asked eagerly.

Everyone groaned.

"Not the point Harold." Supplied Sid.

"Anyway, why isn't Phoebe here?" Eugene asked Gerald, graciously taking the focus away from poor Harold. "I'd thought she would probably want to help us find Helga."

The attention was now on Gerald who suddenly looked quite uncomfortable.

"Look, Phoebe took Helga's disappearance pretty hard." He started to explain. "She tried to look for her you know; even though she doesn't talk about it much. Phoebe, she always hated failing ever since she was a little girl… although with time she learned to accept her own limitations. But not being able to find Helga? I don't think Phoebe will ever get over it."

Gerald lowered his gaze, suddenly finding the carpet particularly interesting.

"I don't want to… bring those feelings back to the surface. Sometimes, I feel like she may have finally found some closure… So I guess I don't want to ruin that for her. I think we should just leave Pheebs out of it. I hope that's ok with all of you?"

The others nodded solemnly. They understood Gerald's difficult position. He wanted to help Arnold, but he also wanted to protect Phoebe. These two desires conflicted, as the solution to one could possibly harm the other. But in the end, if they did manage to find Helga, it would be for Phoebe as well.

"You also suggested we didn't talk about it with Arnold? To avoid giving him false hope?" Stinky reminded.

Gerald nodded.

"How are we suppose to find Helga if we can't ask about her to the two persons who knew her best?" complained Harold.

Rhonda shushed him.

" I may have an idea of where we could start looking." She said. "It might not be a very good one but we need to start somewhere though right?"

Harold was back to staring at her in awe. You're so smart Rhonda was what his expression was screaming.

"We'll take whatever you got Rhonda!" Gerald encouraged.

The brunette settled back into her chair, crossing her arms. Gerald wasn't the only one who enjoyed leaving his audience wanting more.

"Well here's what I thought about. Back in high school, the year she disappeared, Helga used to date this guy. Well, when I say date… I'm not exactly sure what she did with him, and to be honest I don't really want to know. From what I remember the guy was more than creepy. Apparently he kept showing up in campus, like he was stalking her or something. So I thought maybe we should start by asking him if he knew anything about Helga?"

"That's a good idea!" Eugene encouraged.

"Wait wait wait!" Exclaimed Sid. "How do you know all this about Pataki? It's not like you were friends with her!"

"That's true!" Gerald agreed. "How do you know this guy was stalking her Rhonda?"

The dark-haired girl had the graced to look sheepish.

"Helga mentioned it to me." she informed in mocked nonchalance.

"What? When? Where? Why?" asked Eugene.

"Why, especially!" Stinky added.

" I would rather not say." Rhonda answered, looking away.

"Oh come on Rhonda! You can tell us!" begged Harold.

"I really can't." Rhonda replied.

"Why not?" everyone asked at once.

"I'm just no comfortable with it, that's all!"

Gerald groaned. He didn't have time for Rhonda's bullshit.

"Rhonda, if you know something about Helga, you have to tell us! Especially if it's something private. For all we know, it might be a clue that the police has missed!"

"You can't keep stuff from the police Rhonda!" Harold added. "You just can't! I'd have to arrest you!"

Rhonda rolled her eyes.

"Oh for crying out loud it's nothing of importance!" She finally said. "But if it means that much to you, then FINE! I'll talk." She took a breath. "About maybe a year or so before Helga disappeared, she and I started having this sort of… hum… let's call it arrangement…"

Sid gasped.

"Oh my god!" He said. "Were you two like exchanging sexual favors or something?" he asked, eyes sparkling.

Rhonda looked appalled. Actually the whole room pulled an awkward face.

"NO, you perv! What is wrong with you? It was nothing like that! Helga… was selling me her clothes!"

There was a big moment of silence. Flies could actually be heard from across the street. Then:

"What the FUDGE?" Eugene finally had the courage to exclaim.

Gerald raised an eyebrow at him.

"Who says what the fudge? Wait. Not important right now!" He turned to Rhonda.

"What do you mean Pataki sold you her clothes?

Rhonda looked more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

"Look!" she said, "Helga's dad was rich! Like really rich. He had clients all around the world and was often away on business. So I guess he used to… get things for Helga. Italian shoes, limited edition perfumes or bags… There were also designer dresses made especially for her! Do you know what it's like to have someone offer you an exclusive Valentino dress because she, and I quote, '_Wouldn't be caught dead wearing such an expensive waste of money_'? Helga offered me things I couldn't even dream off. And for like a third of it's value."

Harold laughed.

"Ha! Ha! Rhonda! All those beautiful things you were always so proud to wear, you got them from… Helga Pataki?"

"Because she didn't want them?!" Sid added, equally amused.

"Lay off guys!" Gerald said.

Rhonda obviously hadn't wanted to talk about the 'arrangement' she had with Helga and now that she had, it didn't seem fair to mock her for it. More importantly, if they were going to find Helga, there couldn't be any secrets between them, especially about things that concerned the missing girl. And for it to be no secrets, they needed to trust each other. In any mystery novel, the solution was often delayed by the fact that everyone had something to hide. And right now they couldn't afford to lose any time. Too much had passed already. So Gerald went back to the topic at hand.

"So during one of these exchange, Helga told you about this guy?"

"Yea, well she made a comment about him. We had met at my house and he kept calling her. She groaned about how he wouldn't leave her alone. I assumed it was her boyfriend at the time. But then I saw her once with him and he was… well weird. Much older, piercings and tattoos everywhere, all dressed in leather. You know, the typical bad boy image. Anyway, if he was such a stalker maybe he knows something about her disappearance."

"Do you remember his name?" Stinky asked.

"Well no… It's been a while." Rhonda sighed.

Everyone kept quiet for a bit, slightly defeated.

"Hey guys!" Harold suddenly said. "Maybe I could look it up."

His friends looked at him dubiously. It was Harold after all. He looked slightly affronted at the lack of confidence.

"What? I could! Now that I work at the station, I have access to all of the town's old files. Including the ones about missing persons…"

All eyes turned to him, starting to shine in interest.

"I'm sure the guy Helga used to date will be mentioned somewhere in her file. Especially if he was stalking her. Someone must have mentioned him before, when the actual investigation was going on. Maybe Phoebe or something. I could maybe even get access to some of the depositions that were made at the time?" Harold added, finally figuring out how he could make himself useful.

"Really?" Sid exclaimed. "You could do that Harold?"

"Consider it done!" the cop replied.

-HA-

Sixteen years old Arnold was having a really bad day. It had started out that way first thing in the morning, when his alarm hadn't gone off. So he hadn't had time for a shower, or breakfast, but had still been late, although drenched form the rain, for his first class. Biology. Unluckily for him, the teacher hated him, and Arnold had been refused inside the classroom, plus given detention. His only consolation was that he would most certainly see Helga there. Let's face it that was the most likely place everyone was ever to find her. And Arnold really needed to talk to the girl after what she had told him two days before.

It had been two days since Helga Pataki had shown up on Arnold's doorstep, to confess her love under the rain. And Arnold hadn't spoken to her since. To say he felt guilty about it was a bit of an understatement. What was wrong with him? He usually always knew what to say! Why couldn't he just face Helga? Why hadn't he said anything when she was actually standing in front of him, giving the most beautiful speech he had ever heard anybody say? And to make things worst she had been giving it to him. Arnold. Like he actually deserved it or something. How was he ever going to respond anything that could match Helga's declaration? It was simply impossible and yet he needed to find the words and fast. Helga deserved to hear them. She deserved to hear what Arnold felt about her. But what did he feel? "Helga, I think you're great." "I like you. A lot." How lame would that sound? Wouldn't it make things even worst?

Why couldn't he just grow a pair and kiss her?

Because he didn't deserve her love that's why. She was offering him something powerful, real. He hadn't even suspected anyone could love the way Helga had said she loved him. But he believed her though. He just couldn't get her expression out of his head. He remembered the way she had said each word with tauntalizing precision. Could he give back as much as she had given him? Because if not, then he certainly wasn't worthy of someone like Helga. He needed to be sure he was the man she thought he was. For her. He needed to prove to himself he could be the one for Helga. And then possibly, also, try to convey into words how exactly he felt about her.

In conclusion, he just needed to see Helga. He certainly didn't need to sit here in Calculus right now. How could he concentrate on something that now seemed so trivial after what had happened? But Helga wasn't answering his calls! He tried all day, yesterday. Was she angry? Embarassed? This was torture!

And that's when Arnold's day went from bad to worst. Because suddenly there was a knock on the door and the school's principal was in the classroom, looking distraught.

He said something to the teacher, who instantly turned to look at him.

Arnold stood up from his seat. He can't remember how he got out of the classroom, but suddenly there were two policemen looking right at him.

"Arnold Shortman?"

He nodded, a bad feeling in his gut.

"We need to ask you a few questions."

They had asked if he knew Helga Geraldine Pataki. And then how well he actually knew her. Arnold almost wanted to laugh at that. He was confused, unsure of what the police actually wanted to know about Helga. Did they want to hear about her tone of voice? The different shades of blue her eyes could take? Or maybe they would be interested in knowing about the sound of her laugh? That was one of Arnold's favorite topics.

They explained she was missing. Everything seemed to indicate that he was the last person to have seen her. But they stopped their questions quickly enough. Apparently, because Arnold was in shock. He just felt numb really. They brought him home. Asked if there was someone there to take care of him. No one was at the boarding house though, apart from Mr. Huynh. The man was nice enough to take charge of Arnold. Knew what to do, he said. He had lived through the war after all.

After a while, Arnold explained. His friend was missing. Her name was Helga. And she loved him.

She loved him while he said nothing.

Mr. Huynh was very sorry, but promised Arnold didn't need to worry. They would find her, he had said, she would come back. Good people always came back.

And, he had added, Helga was certainly a good person. After all, she had sacrificed her whole Christmas once, in order to help a man find his daughter for him. For Arnold.

That's when the blond boy truly broke down. He had begun to realize his miracle was gone.

He also knew from experience that good people didn't always come back.

-HA-

The stalker's name was Colby Powers. It sounded more like a cartoon character than a dangerous criminal in Gerald's opinion. But there they were at his place anyway, in an ugly part of town, ready to start asking question. It was only he, Harold and Sid, as they thought too many people showing up at his place at once might look suspicious to their suspect. Harold was there because he was the one who had found out who the man was and where he lived. Sid just tagged along because he took the whole 'helping Arnold' thing very seriously. Officially that is. In reality, he just thought the ordeal was thrilling.

They had to ring the doorbell fifteen times for the guy to finally grant them with his presence. He politely greeted them with a barked:

"WHAT?"

"Powers, we KNOW you're guilty!" Sid introduced, before anyone else had the chance to say anything.

Colby Powers actually looked surprised.

"What?" he asked again, this time in a more confused tone than anything.

Gerald decided to take things over before Powers could slam the door in their faces. He took out a picture of Helga from his coat pocket.

"Remember her?" he asked Powers, handing him the paper.

Helga was about fifteen in the photo, her hair was tied back and she was giving the camera the finger. Colby paled, instantly recognizing whom it was.

"Helga!" he stuttered in surprise. Then he snapped out of it. "Who the fuck are you people? What do you want?" he snarled.

Harold had the brilliant idea to show him his badge.

"We're the police. We're re-opening Miss Pataki's case." He offered as an explanation.

Gerald didn't let it show but he was very impressed.

"I already told you people everythin' I knew 'bout Helga ten fucking years ago!" groaned Powers. "And she still hasn't reappeared has she? So why are you here 'gain wasting my damn time?"

"We have recently acquired some new information. We've heard from a very reliable source that you, Sir, used to harass Miss Pataki." Gerald said.

"Stalked was the word." Sid coyly remarked.

Powers blinked in surprise.

"Stalked her? She was my friend!" He denied, outraged.

"If by friend you mean girlfriend like we suspect, than you should know that dating a minor who turned out to disappear does not play well in your favor." Gerald said sternly.

Powers' eyes grew large.

"Dated? What the hell? I've never dated the girl." He crossed his arms defensively. "I was her boss, she worked at my bar! That's how we met: She was looking to make some cash. I did her a favor too, she was only fifteen when she started working, serving alcohol and everything. But what the hell, I liked her. She had guts! Although if I had known all the shit it would get me into, maybe I'd have thought twice about hiring her. I had nothing to do with her disappearance!"

"Yeah? How do we know you're not lying? For all we know you could have been dating her in secret!" Sid insisted.

"I'm gay!" Powers pointed out blankly.

"Oh right. Okay." The brunet replied, blushing.

"If you're looking for a stalker, try to talk to that kid that always used to follow Helga around." Powers offered.

Gerald's eyebrows furrowed.

"So she was being stalked then?" he inquired.

Turns out Rhonda had been right, but the mysterious stalker was not the man she had assumed.

"I don't know." Powers replied. "She never said. He didn't look very dangerous though. Helga certainly wasn't scared of him or anything. I guess he just bugged her that's all."

"But can't you give us a description?" Harold demanded.

"There was nothin' special about him. Tall, skinny kid. Looked like your typical nerd. He wore glassed I think. Had a massive load of zits"

"That describes about half of the dudes from our high school!" complained Harold.

"Assuming the stalker was even at our high school!" Sid added darkly.

"If we showed you a picture, would you recognize him?" offered Gerald.

Powers shrugged.

"Maybe. But that would require me to waste some more of my precious time on you losers!" He said.

"Hey! Watch it!" Harold threatened." You're talking to police officers!"

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it fat boy? Arrest me?" Powers mocked.

"Maybe I will!" Harold growled.

Gerald interfered, again secretly impressed by his friend.

"Just help us out Powers! For Helga?" he asked.

The man looked dubious.

"How do you know Helga isn't dead anyway? She's been gone ten fucking years! And say she's still breathin', how do you know she even wants to be found?" he questioned.

There was no convincing him. Defeated, the three friends went back to their car.

"We'll come back." Gerald said. "He's playing tough but if we bring our yearbook, I'm sure we can convince him to take a look at it. For a little bit at least. And then maybe he'll identify the stalker!"

"It's not like we have any other lead anyway…" Sid concluded.

-HA-

"Are you stalking me or something football head?"

Arnold rolled his eyes. Helga was already annoying him in typical Pataki fashion.

"You're the one that called me down here, because your car broke down! Remember?"

The blond girl threw her head back and laughed.

"Oh right! The car!"

She smiled sheepishly. Arnold looked around, then sighed after understanding he had been played. The big red bike lying at Helga's feet kind of gave it away. Her expression did the rest.

"There's no car is there?"

"Nope!" Helga confirmed. She looked smug.

"Then what am I doing here?" Arnold asked frustrated.

His friend shrugged her shoulders non-committedly.

"I was bored." Was her answer.

"You were bored?!" Arnold exclaimed. "So what? I'm supposed to entertain you?"

Helga sat down. They were currently in a big field, a little outside of town.

"Yea, why not? Dance, monkey, dance!" she replied, clasping her hands.

Arnold glared at her.

"Fine then don't dance." The girl took something out of her bag, presenting to Arnold in a form of apology.

"Spliff?" she offered.

"Helga, I'm not going to stay here and smoke weed with you in the middle of nowhere on a Friday night."

Half an hour went by.

"I can't believe I stayed here and smoked weed with you in the middle of nowhere on a Friday night." Arnold said, blankly.

"Liar. You love it!" Helga grinned.

Arnold didn't respond. They were both laying on their back, side by side, looking at the sky. It was surprisingly clear from where they were and so they could see the stars that had come out. Arnold wished Sally's comet would come by again. He knew they still had to wait for another sixty-four years or so. But still. He thought it would have fitted in pretty well with the mood.

"What are you thinking about?" Helga inquired.

Arnold told her and she made fun of him.

"Just like you football head," she said, "to wish for impossible things."

"Where's the fun in wishing for something possible?" teased Arnold.

Helga smirked.

"It might not be as fun, but at least there's a chance that it could happen. If you keep dreaming for the impossible then you'll always end up disappointed."

"Or you'll keep seeing the bright side of things." Arnold replied. "Dreaming big isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Helga frowned but said nothing.

"Come on!" He insisted. "You must have one!"

The blond girl gave him a sideway glance.

"One what?" she asked, batting her eyelashes innocently.

"An impossible dream! Everybody has one of those! Even you Helga!" Arnold declared solemnly.

"Nope, not me!" she denied

"Now look who's lying!"

"I'm not lying!"

"Yeah you are! Tell me what it is!" Arnold pried.

"No way, Jose!"

The young man lifted himself up on his elbow.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, pointing at Helga in triumph. "So you do have a dream! Come on, out with it Pataki!" he laughed.

Helga frowned, unhappy about being tricked by Arnold of all people.

"I never said I did! And even if I did why on earth would I tell you Arnold-o?"

"Because! You called me to hang out here with you in this field. Deep down, way past all of your barriers, there's little, tiny, part of you that must enjoy my company. Sort of."

Helga scoffed.

"I was bored Shortman! Don't read too much into it."

This statement was followed by a moment of comfortable silence.

It was weird how things that used to bug him about Helga actually amused Arnold now. Possibly because he had matured enough to see past her tough exterior. To actually see her good side, not just know about it.

Perhaps also because she wasn't as difficult as she used to be. She teased him yes, but she didn't torment him like she once had. In fact, she intrigued him.

"I had a dream before." Helga whispered, so softly that Arnold almost missed it.

He turned to face her again but preferred not to interrupt.

"I let it go." Helga confessed.

Arnold felt something funny constrict his chest. Happened a lot around Helga for some reason.

"Why?" he asked. "Did you grow out of it or something?" he speculated.

Helga sighed.

"No that's not it. It was always going to be the best of dreams."

She stopped speaking for a while, like she was lost in her thoughts. Then she said:

"It's just… it was never going to come true."

Arnold felt he should comfort her somehow. But he wasn't sure what to say. Another moment went by and it was too late to actually say something meaningful.

So he went with:

"Your big dream was to take over the world wasn't it?"

Helga laughed and hit him on the arm.

"Ass!"

-HA-

Harold and Eugene were going back to visit Powers along with their high school yearbook. Meanwhile, Gerald was accompanying Arnold to the hospital. If they didn't manage to find Helga, he would have at least been there to show his friend some moral support. At the moment Arnold was having some private time with his grandmother, so Gerald was keeping Phil company.

The old man looked forlorn. It hurt Gerald to seem him so defeated. He remembered the up-beat, mischievous man that used to always find a way to entertain him and Arnold when they were younger. Gerald kind of felt Phil was a little bit like his own grandpa too.

"How are you holding up?" he asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Phil shrugged.

"Oh, me? I'm just an old man! You know past a certain age, death isn't as scary as it used to be."

Gerald grimaced which Phil didn't fail to notice.

"Don't give me that look kid!" he said. "It's true! Pookie might not be doing very well but she and I, we'll be reunited soon enough! And then we'll never be apart again: for better and for worst!" he added grinning. "It's Arnold I'm worried about!" Phil lowered his gaze, looking defeated once more.

"I had notice a change. Ever since the end of high school he was always a bit down, but three years ago…that's when it really got bad! Doesn't talk much anymore, sees his friends less and less…"

Gerald could only agree with Phil's words.

"Sometimes it's like the only reason he makes any effort at all is for Pookie and I." Grandpa went on. "And now she is ill. He has already lost his parents when he was just a little kid. I'm scared of how he's going to hold up when both me and Pookie are gone."

"Come on Phil!" Gerald interjected. "You're still gonna be here a while!"

Grandpa rolled his eyes.

"What did I tell you about calling me Phil? Anyway, I might be almost a century old but I ain't crazy yet. I know my time is coming soon enough! And Arnold is going to be left here without a family!" His shoulders slumped even lower then where they were a moment before. "You have no idea how much Pookie and I wished he'd found someone to start his life by now…" Phil smiled fondly. "Pookie keeps asking about that Eleanor. She says she won't go until the girl has come back to Arnold!"

Gerald looked confused.

"Who the heck is Eleanor?"

"Eleanor Roosevelt!" Phil pointed out, patiently.

"Right!" Gerald said, worried about the old man's mental state.

Phil rolled his eyes once more.

"That's what she calls the little blond girl with the bow!" he explained. "She and I were always convinced she was the one for Arnold. That crazy kid was just like my Pookie when she was younger!"

"You mean Helga." Gerald nodded in understanding.

Gerald thought about telling Phil about how they had been looking for Helga. How he and the others wanted so badly to bring her back home. But he didn't want to have to tell him they were losing hope. Especially seeing his wife wasn't doing so well. So he kept silent until he suddenly noticed his phone was vibrating. He excused himself and walked away to take the call. It was Harold.

"Hello?" Gerald answered.

"It's Brainy!" his friend exclaimed on the other line.

"Sorry?"

"Helga's stalker! It was Brainy! You know the kid that breathed weird! He was at PS. 118 with us!" reminded Harold.

An image of the pale, strange kid emerged in Gerald's mind.

"Seriously? Brainy? Wow!"

"Yep! Eugene got Powers to help us out and he recognized him!"

"Well done Eugene!" Gerald said. "How did he do it?"

Harold sighed on the other end.

"You don't want know. All I can say is that they're going out on a date now." He explained

Gerald was stunned silent.

"No way!" he finally gasped.

"Yep! Anyway that's not all. I looked throughout Helga's old file again and night she went missing, Brainy was home with mom the whole time. So she says at least."

"But maybe he knows something though? Shouldn't we go talk to him? What if he kept things from the police that he could tell us now?" Gerald argued.

"There's a little problem with that plan though. Brainy's dead. He hanged himself, about three years back." Harold announced grimly.

Gerald was shocked. Sure he hadn't been best friends with Brainy but… still! They had gone to school together! And he didn't even know he was dead. He could barely even remember the guy!

"So that's a dead end, then…" he finally said.

"Not necessarily. The day after Helga's supposedly disappeared, Brainy was caught leaving town by two policemen. They asked for his papers because he was driving too fast. Anyway the deposition says he was with a girl, about his age. The police never interrogated her, so we don't know yet but maybe Brainy told her something about Helga?"

"Right. So we have to try to look for Brainy's mystery girl. Who I'm sure will be delighted to talk to us, complete strangers, about her friend who committed suicide."

"It's worth a shot! Although, Eugene looked through the school records and there's no trace of her anywhere in there, so that might be a tough one to pull. We've got no address!"

"What's her name?" Gerald asked, more and more blasé by the minute.

"Eleanor Veltrose… Yeah I know, it's a weird name!" joked Harold.

No shit! Gerald thought, amused. And then his brained clicked.

"You don't say!" he whispered, lost in his thoughts.

"What?"

"Come over to my place and call the others!" Gerald exclaimed, suddenly excited. "I may have a theory!"

"Hum, ok?" Harold answered before Gerald hung up on him.

Eleanor Veltrose? This couldn't be a coincidence could it? It was almost the same as Eleanor Roosevelt. And didn't Phil just say that…

Gerald couldn't get too carried away. Maybe Helga hadn't known about the nickname. But maybe she had? It's not like it was a common name! And anyhow, the mystery girl was linked to Brainy, so that means she was somehow linked to Helga too! On some level.

They definitely needed to find that Eleanor Veltrose!

* * *

That's it... for now! ;) Until next time, thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hi there! Thank you so much for reviewing, especially to those who I couldn't send a response to!

Yea so this took a while to write. Sorry guys! It's pretty long though, so I hope that makes up for it a bit? Enjoy your read!

* * *

Finding Eleanor Veltrose was turning out to be more difficult than Gerald had first anticipated. Not only was there no trace of the name on Facebook (and that, now days, was what you could called real bad luck), but there was also no Eleanor in the yellow pages or any type of online registry. Eugene managed to pull some string in getting access to other school records around the city, but sadly the initiative turned out to be a severely dead end. Harold also did what he could with his police privileges, but again that lead them nowhere. Well, it led to Harold wanting to get a chocolate muffin at his favorite coffee place, but that's not really relevant to our story. Expect for the fact that at the moment, the gang was pretty much stuck with their investigation, having no other idea of where to look beside Eleanor and thus eating pastries to drown their frustration as suggested by their policeman friend.

The others had been on board with Gerald's theory that their mystery girl must have some sort of connection to Helga. Eleanor had been with Brainy, Pataki's stalker, only a day after the girl went missing. The teen must have talked to Eleanor then. Maybe, especially if she was close friend with Brainy, she had known Helga. Or, and Gerald had a weird but strong hunch on the matter, maybe she was even Helga herself.

Here is how Gerald looked at things. Arnold's grandfather had mentioned that Gertie used to call Helga 'Eleanor'. Eleanor Roosevelt. That particular surname was dangerously similar to Veltrose. Which was an uncommon name to say the least. If Helga had known about the nickname, and it was highly possible that she did seeing the number of times she had been at Arnold's, (yes, even if some sort of tacit agreement stated that it would never be mentioned, Gerald remembered the blond girl barging in at random times) then maybe she had changed her name consequently. In some sort of reference, or weird homage to Arnold; she had been in love with him after all. And according to the way Phoebe talked about Helga, and what Gerald could remember, the girl had a strong tendency for dramatic effect. So Gerald new theory was that maybe Helga hadn't been kidnapped and dumped in ditch somewhere, never to be found. Maybe Helga had simply run away. She had every reason to. Her home life was a wreck: Her father abused her, her mother was a depressed, alcoholic, and her sister was never there. One day Olga Pataki had decided her family did not fit into the perfection that she made out her life to be anymore, and she left without ever looking back at her younger sister in need. Well what if that had inspired Helga. What if she had fled too, just like Olga?

"Seems pretty plausible to me." Rhonda declared. "Maybe that's why she sold me her clothes. She actually needed the money, to run!"

"Yeah!" Sid agreed. "Must have been why she took that shady job at Colby Powers' bar as well."

"According to Colby, Helga used to be interested in obtaining a fake I.D. He thought it was so that she would not get in trouble at said job, and he ended up putting her in touch with some people. He never thought about it since. But who knows? Maybe he unconsciously gave her a way to obtain a new identity to hide in peace?" offered Eugene.

They all pondered on this for a little bit until:

"By the way" Rhonda said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, "how is Colby, Eugene? "

She had always lived for gossip. Eugene, on the other end, was never a big fan.

He blushed a dark shade of red, which, Rhonda noted, did not fit the color of his sweater.

"Leave him alone Rhonda!" pacified Harold, mainly because he had had enough of Eugene and Colby gossip until way after he was long dead.

"ANYWAY, the fact that Helga may have run away still doesn't change the fact that we can't find her nor that Eleanor, fellas!" noted Stinky. "Hey, where are you going Gerald?" he added, noting that his friend was rising up from where he sat.

The young man had done so abruptly and was now heading for the door, cellphone in hand.

"Sorry guys, it's Phoebe calling! I promised her I would meet her home for diner and we're running late. I got to take this!" Gerald explained.

As soon as he was out of the cafe, the young man opened his phone.

"Hey Pheebs!" He greeted into the device.

"Don't you '_Hey Pheebs_' me Gerald Johanssen!" he heard his fiancée say on the other end of the line. "You're late for diner. AGAIN! I get something's going on, and I want to know what it is now! So speak!" she ordered.

Gerald grimaced at her demanding tone. But he knew Phoebe well enough to understand she was not actually mad, more likely concerned or at the very least intrigued. His habit was to share pretty much everything with her, and yet he had been quite distant the past few weeks, busy with his Helga search. He wanted to tell the truth, hating hiding things from her, but like he had told the others, he didn't want to sadden Phoebe. And bringing the subject of her missing friend on the table was a more than sure way to do just that.

"You're right Pheebs. I haven't been really present lately. I'm sorry, and I'll promise I'll make it up to you." He comforted, doing the best he could to make amends.

"Honey, I know you love me and I'm not feeling disregarded, ok? I just want to know what's going on!" Phoebe explained, fairly. "I'm worried about you! I feel like something bothering you, and I just don't understand why you want talk to me about it. Is it something with work?"

"Pheebs—" Gerald started hesitantly.

He really didn't know what to tell her. Luckily for him, Phoebe was an amazingly understanding woman.

"Ok. If you're not ready to talk to me about it, then I won't push you Gerald. But don't forget I'm here. Whatever the problem is, I can handle it. And maybe I can even help." She offered.

Gerald smiled into his phone.

"Thanks babe!"

He hesitated, than decided to give her something at the very least.

"It's Arnold." He told her. He pause, wondering how to phrase things. "I just don't know what to do anymore." He finally explained, defeated.

Phoebe was silent on the other end, listening patiently.

"I just wish… Pheebs he misses her so much! After all this time too! There's no dulling the pain, or time healing the wound, or moving on or nothing! He just wants her to come home!" Gerald let out, desperately.

His frustration with their case was taking its toll, as well as his concern for Arnold. Gerald needed Phoebe. He needed to confide in her, to some extent at least.

"I know he does." Phoebe said emphatically. "And just like you, I really wish he would move on."

"Or that Helga would come home!" Gerald added, instantly biting his tongue.

Phoebe was silent again, this time taking in his words. This was a difficult conversation for her to have.

"I don't think she'll ever come back Gerald." She finally said, in a too calm a tone.

Gerald grimaced, knowing _that _particular tone was used when Phoebe tried her best to control an overwhelming emotion. Probably pain in this scenario.

"Why do you say that?" he whispered. "Maybe she ran away. Maybe she's in hiding! Her dad—"

"Gerald!" Phoebe interjected. "Helga would have never run away! At least not so far that she would actually stay away for so long. It's just impossible."

"Why?" Gerald objected. Phoebe's insights were going against his best theory and he didn't like it one bit. "Her domestic situation was disastrous! Her life was in danger! Why wouldn't she run?"

Phoebe was silent for a little bit, probably looking for the best way to word her thoughts so that Gerald would be able to understand what she needed him to. She did that often when she felt like talking about subjects that weren't his area of expertise. Like physics. Or baby dolphins.

"She wouldn't have ran because…" Phoebe hesitated, "…Helga could never have left Arnold behind. Not for ten years anyway."

Gerald didn't know how to respond to that information. It had just made him realized he really didn't know Helga. He remembered the little girl, but the person she had grown into? He had no idea. How was he ever going to find someone he knew almost nothing about? If she was even- no! He would not go back to square one. Considering the possibility that Helga might be dead wouldn't do any good to anybody. Wouldn't help them find her. She was alive somewhere; they just needed to figure out where that was exactly.

The conversation was cut shortly after Phoebe's confiding. Gerald promised to come home soon. He needed to make sure his fiancée was alright anyway. He knew he was often overprotective of her, that she wasn't the timid, soft-spoken girl she used to be. She was an intelligent, dedicated and confident young woman now. But still. Helga was her emotional baggage. And a heavy one at that.

The others hadn't move, and were talking animatedly, although probably about something stupid Sid had said rather than their case.

He looked at them and would probably have been amused if he wasn't so distressed. These guys…they really hadn't changed that much in the end.

Rhonda, nose in the air, condescending yet head strong, witty and beautiful. A narcissist with the potential to be a real leader. Inspiring.

Stinky, good natured with a big heart, never taking life too seriously, always true to himself and what he believed in.

Sid, childish and eccentric, gesticulating widely, probably lost in crazy speculations right about now. Always mocking others before he could be mocked, desperate for approval, yet reticent into giving his.

Harold scratching his head in confusion, incessantly trying to put up a tough front, while really just wishing he'd find someone who'd accept him entirely, someone he could give his whole, actually tender heart to.

And Eugene, the eternal optimist, despite all the trouble life had dealt him with, always looking on the bright side because that was the only thing left to do. He reminded him of Arnold sometimes, in a more deranged, frivolous type of way.

And gay. Let's not forget that part.

All of them, they all meant well. But that wasn't going to be enough.

Gerald was going to have to step up his game a notch if he was going to show any results. Decidedly, he walked up to them, ready to announce his new strategy.

"Guy's we're going nowhere!" he told them bluntly while reaching their table.

Everyone groaned.

"So I'm calling in the big guns!" Gerald added, firmly.

"What do you mean?" Rhonda asked intrigued.

"You're going to call the FBI?" Sid guessed.

"The C.I.A?" Stinky wondered next.

"James Bond?" Harold pondered in glee.

Eye brows shot up at once.

"James Bond isn't real you idiot!" Rhonda said.

"Yeah he is! He went to fetch the queen of England during the Olympics! I saw him!" Harold objected.

"Harold…" Eugene started patiently.

"GUYS!" Gerald interrupted. "I'm not going to call the F.B.I or the C.I.A or … James Bond! I've got a bigger card up my sleeve. Someone who means business! Someone more lethal than all these guys combined" he emphasized.

Gerald made his characteristic dramatic pause before he finally announced:

"I'm calling my SISTER!"

-HA-

"But why can't I come with you Gerald? You never let me come along!" complained a seven-year old Timberly to her older brother.

Gerald, who at twelve had not yet grown to be more patient, groaned.

"Because Timberly, Arnold and I are going camping with our friends. Our much older friends. I'll have better things to do than taking care of my little sister during the whole time!"

"But Gerald, I'm big now!" Timberly complained. "You won't have to take care of me."

"Yeah right! You can't come Tim, and that's final! Mom and Dad wouldn't even let you anyway. You're way too little!"

Timberly pouted but went back inside the Johanssen's home with her shoulders slumped.

"Gerald!" Arnold remarked. "You could try to be nicer to her. You know she looks up to you!"

Gerald shrugged. "So what Arnold? We still can't take her with us! Think about it! She'd die of fear during the night outside, thrown into the wild! She would be all like 'I wanna go home! I want my mommy!' and we already have Harold to cover that line!"

Arnold laughed.

"All right Gerald. I guess your right! But I'd pick taking Timberly any day over Helg-…"

"WELL WELL WELL!"

Arnold was interrupted as Helga and Phoebe popped up next to them, right on cue.

"If it isn't the football head and his best buddy tall hair boy! Are you ready for tonight losers? Or are you two chickening out?" Helga mocked, hands on her hips.

Arnold sighed, already tired of the blonde's taunting.

"We're not chickening out Helga!" He told her calmly. "The camping was our idea in the first place, remember?"

"That's true Helga!" defended Phoebe hesitantly. "The guys said it would be fun for all of us to go camping one last time before the end of the summer."

Helga glared at Phoebe questioningly, surprised that the small girl would go against her to defend the boys. But then again, Phoebe was getting braver where Gerald was concerned. Helga had to constantly remind herself to leave the guy be if she wanted to stay on Phoebe's good side! She must really like him. Pff, lame!

"I think this going to be fun guys!" Arnold said as the four kids got on their bikes, ready to head towards the area they all had agreed on, a little field just on the outside of town with a great view.

This was going to be one of their last nights before middle school started. If none of them was willing to state it yet, they were worried that this new beginning was going to separate all of them. Middle school implied that they were going to be mixed with new students from the others primary schools of the city. That meant new classmate, new activities, and let's face it, probably new friends. Who knew if the kids from P.S 118 were going to manage to stick together? Probably not. Arnold thought, if he didn't see Helga G. Pataki every single day, well it wouldn't be the worst thing. But what about the others? This was a big change! And thus, he had suggested the camping night to Gerald, and the two had organized it with their classmates.

"Look guys! I see Harold, Sid and Stinky!" Phoebe said as they were reaching the field.

The three boys waved at them from afar.

"Hey guys!" Arnold greeted when they arrived.

"Howdy Arnold!" Stinky responded happily.

"This place is great! Nice pick Gerald!" Sid complimented.

"Yeah, Jamie-O told me about it! Apparently this is where all the high school kids go when they want some 'private time', if you know what I mean!" Gerald said wiggling his eyebrows.

"We always know what you mean, Gerald-o" Helga said in her usual scornful tone, earning herself a glare from Phoebe, who had blushed upon hearing Gerald's words.

"Well there will be no teenagers making out here tonight, hopefully!" Arnold said. "School doesn't start for a couple of days so it should be fine."

"Well it better be football head! I didn't exactly sign up for a fun night of peeking at people getting it on!" Helga taunted.

"Don't dish it out, Helga!" Sid laughed. "Maybe someday it'll be you meeting some guy here in this field, looking to get some alone time."

Helga rolled her eyes.

"Yeah right! I've got way more class than that!" she said, nose up in the air.

"Nah you don't! It's just that no guys in their right mind would ever want a date with you… because you're ugly!" Harold added laughingly.

Helga smiled at him sweetly before violently squashing his foot. The poor fool never saw it coming.

"Here are Rhonda and Nadine!" Arnold said in order to end the argument.

"Eugene, Lila and Sheena are on their way. They got delayed when Eugene's pants got stuck in his wheel!" Nadine explained while Harold continued to mutter something about his resentment toward 'Madame Fortress Mommy'.

"Alright well why don't we start setting up?" Phoebe offered.

They did just that, soon joined by their three missing classmates. When it was done, they manage to arrange a small fire, (thanks to Phil's survival tips) and all settled around it, eating diner. It wasn't long before Eugene managed to burn his own meal, Rhonda began to criticize everyone's clothing, Nadine picked up a couple of bugs while Stinky and Sid made fun of Harold, Lila politely defended Harold, and Phoebe and Gerald made googly eyes at each other. Also, Arnold and Helga were bickering. As usual.

"No, YOU messed the fire football head!"

"I started the fire, Helga."

"Yeah! You started it so well that we would have all burned to death of it wasn't for me."

"No we wouldn't have! You just put out MY fire, because you were jealous that I could actually make a fire, unlike YOU!" Arnold objected.

"Me? Jealous? Of you out of all people? In your dreams geek-bait!" Helga replied.

"Are you ever going to get tired of calling me names? Because it got old about a year ago! And that's putting it lightly!"

"The day I'll stop calling you what I feel like calling you is the day I get buried."

"That'll be the day." Arnold muttered under his breath.

Too bad for him Helga had excellent ears.

"Take that back football head or I'm pounding you so hard you'll actually think that's your real name!" She threatened.

"You know you always say that but in the end you never end up 'pounding' anybody! You're all words Helga!" Arnold remarked.

"Are you asking for it? Because I'll gladly deliver buck-o!"

By that time everyone had gotten tired of the argument.

"Guys! That's enough!" Phoebe intervened.

"I would ask you to take it outside only I can't, on account that we're already outside!" Stinky remarked.

Arnold and Helga both crossed their arms unhappily and stared at the opposite direction of each other.

"You know what guys? I'm really going to miss this!" Eugene said.

Rhonda raised an eyebrow at him, surprised.

"What you mean Arnold and Helga's arguing?" she asked bewildered.

"No! I mean us! Our P.S 118 little group!" the redhead said, explaining himself.

"Come on Eugene! We'll still be together next year!" Arnold said optimistically.

"You don't know that Arnold!" Sid objected.

"Yeah! We're going to meet loads of other folks in middle school. Probably won't hang out much anymore!" Stinky said.

"I must concur!" Phoebe said. "Every statistic indicates that upon meeting new people our own age, all of us will be prone to associate with peers that share more similar personality traits to our very own. For example, Rhonda will be likely to meet others from her social background that share interest in fashion and in being what she refers to as 'popular'. Nadine and Sheena will find friends who are interested in science and nature, Eugene some who like musicals…"

"Alright we get it Pheebs! We're all gonna split! Big deal!" Helga said rolling her eyes.

"But that's really sad!" Sheena complained.

"Hey how about this? Let's make a pact, to always be there for each other!" Arnold offered.

"What ever do you mean Arnold?" Lila questioned.

"Well, if we're doomed to…go our separate ways, let's at least promise that whatever happens, if one of us ever finds himself in trouble, all the others must come together to his or her help!"

"So we would have to be there for each other, in true moments of crisis!" Gerald nodded in understanding.

"Exactly!" Arnold exclaimed, enthusiastically.

"Oh Arnold! That's such a beautiful initiative!" cooed Lila.

"It's the dumbest thing I ever heard!" Helga muttered in spite.

But in the end everyone agreed to the pact, which was made in accord to very specific urban rules that Gerald told everyone about carefully.

The end of the night went uneventfully and everyone eventually settled in their respective tents. Arnold was about to fall asleep when a light emanating from the outside awaked him. He peeked out of his tent, only to see Helga, bag in hand, heading toward a car, from which the light was coming from.

"Get in kid!" Arnold heard a voice say.

He realized it was Helga's dad. He was grabbing on to the wheel like he was afraid it was going to fly away at any moment, his shoulders tense and his eyes seeming lost.

"Is she going to be ok Bob?" Helga asked lowly.

Her voice was shaky, like she was about to cry. Now that he thought about it, Arnold noticed she didn't look much better than her dad. The boy's throat tightened in worry. He didn't like seeing Helga upset, for some reason he wasn't going to reflect upon just now.

"I don't know." Helga's dad sighed. "But we better hurry."

Helga climbed into the car, which was soon driving away and out of sight. Arnold got out of his tent, in order to follow the vehicle with his eyes a little while longer. Like that would actually make a difference. When he really couldn't see it anymore, the boy noticed Phoebe had gotten out of her tent too. Since she was sharing it with Helga, the whole thing had probably woken her up.

"Phoebe what's going on?" Arnold asked the brunette before he could stop himself. "Is something's wrong with Helga?"

Phoebe looked at him worriedly, but apparently unsurprised to find out he had witnessed the mysterious event.

"I'm not quite sure Arnold!" She replied, worried. "But I think something bad happened to Helga's mom!"

-HA-

To say Timberly Johanssen was unimpressed would have been a huge understatement.

She had much better things to do with her life than to help Gerald find out about some random chick. What king of name was Eleanor Veltrose anyway? That was clearly made up! Where were they, in some kind of movie or something? But her brother argued that she owed him. The sly bastard even brought the time with the fake ransom note from when they were little. Said now was her time to pay her debts! What wouldn't she do for family really?

"So? Did you find anything?"

Timberly had just arrived at her brother's place, where he and some of his old friends from primary school were waiting for her, hope written on all of their faces.

"Nothing about your 'Eleanor'. It's like she doesn't even exist." Timberly said.

A chorus of disappointed groans was heard.

"I've found something else that might interest you though." Timberly went on. "Information about your old friend Brian Stiles. Used to go by Brainy. In high school, the guy lived alone with his dad. Apparently the mother left them when he was a child. Anyway I couldn't find any relevant family connection expect for this one aunt." Timberly reached for her purse and took out a beige file from it. Inside were all types of documents and pictures, including one of a tall brown-haired woman.

"Alexandra Stiles." Timberly explained. "She's Brainy's dad baby sister. Turns out she's not much older than Brainy himself. I looked her up and she lives pretty close to here… well according to the address I dug up anyway. Maybe she knows some stuff about Brainy and your Eleanor? If she was pretty much the only family he had apart from his dad then he was bound to have some contact with her."

"Whilacres! How ever did you manage to find out all of that?!" Exclaimed Sid, in awe.

Gerald put an appeasing hand on his shoulder.

"My friend" he said, "you don't wanna know. I once made the mistake of asking Tim how she always managed to find out all this kind of stuff. Then she told me and now I'm telling you, you don't wanna know!"

Timberly smirked.

"Right! So moving on from the fact that Timberly is suspiciously well informed" Sid said. "Should we call this Alexandra up?"

"If I may!" Timberly responded. "I suggest you guys go and talk to Alexandra in person. She lives like a day drive away. And I got a feeling she might be reluctant to talk about some private information to complete strangers on the phone. You'll definitely learn more from her if you show up and insist that she talks to you.

"Why do you say that? She might be more annoyed than anything if show up uninvited." Eugene objected.

"Because one of us can always seduce answers out of her if we meet her in person." Gerald said, eying Eugene suggestively.

"Actually," Timberly said. "I'm saying this because I've found out something else about Alexandra Stiles."

"Seriously?! Who ARE you?" Sid exclaimed, impressed.

But Timberly ignored him and went on.

"She got married really young, right out of high school but divorced only a few years later and then moved close to here. Turns out her husband was beating her."

All our friends were stunned. This case was getting more depressing by the second.

"With a past like that, I doubt Alexandra's going to be the most trustful and open person you could get information from. Wary and introverted is probably what you should all expect. Thus, you guys better go and talk to her live, you know so she can't hang up on you!" Gerald's sister concluded.

"Fine then, so we go to Alexandra and tackle her if she runs!" Harold concluded.

"Exactly! You know…without the tackling part!" Timberly answered.

"We can take one of the big family jeeps that I rent out in the garage!" Stinky offered. "I'll even provide the gas!"

Gerald clasped his hands decidedly.

"Great! So who's up for a road trip?"

Everyone more or less reluctantly raised their hands, expect for Rhonda who was busy typing frantically on her smartphone.

"Rhonda?" Harold poked cautiously.

He had experienced the dangerous consequences of interrupting Rhonda when she was on the phone. He would prefer it never to happen again. Ever.

"Sorry, I was updating Nadine on what was going on." Rhonda finally deigned to reply. "She's sorry she's stuck in Uganda by the way."

"So are you up for a fun day of driving to Brainy's aunt's place?" Gerald questioned again a bit too enthusiastically.

Rhonda's eyes popped out in shock.

"Are you kidding? There is absolutely no way I'm getting stuck in a car with you losers for a whole day! Two if you count the way back!"

A couple of hours later, Rhonda would go on about how she could not believe she was stuck in a car with the others for a whole day.

-HA-

Twenty-three year old Arnold was waiting alone at the usual spot. He had done so every year since she had disappeared. Seven years. Helga had been gone seven years. It felt much longer than that. Yet so much shorter too. A part of him always expected her to show up. Didn't matter where he was or what he was doing. He could be in class, at home, on holidays or at work. At some point he would always picture her barging in with some witty remark pouring from her lips. And than it would be just like before. Like she had never left in the first place. It would be like life could go on again.

But it had been seven whole years and Helga had yet to come home. Had yet to contact him, to give him the tiniest sign, just so he would know she was doing fine. Just so he'd know she was alive at the very least. She must have been alive. If Helga were dead, Arnold would know. As naïve as it sounded, he was sure of it; couldn't explain this feeling but he knew for certain, somehow, if Helga had died, then he would have known. He would have felt it, throughout his whole being. Arnold believed he and Helga were linked in a way. Like there was this invisible rope pulling them toward one another, like gravity, connecting them, always, no matter how far apart the two of them ended up being. If Helga died, the rope would have broken and Arnold would surely be made aware of that. But yet he kept expecting her to show up. He still felt her, everywhere. So there was no doubt in his mind, that she must be alive someplace. And that one day, she would have to come back to him. How could she not feel as empty as he felt? Did she not need his presence as much as he needed hers? Was he a fool, waiting like this?

Arnold felt the only person who could come close to understanding what he felt, to having the same deluded expectations, was Phoebe Heyerdahl.

They never talked about it though. Not really.

But they had an understanding.

Every year, on the day of Helga's official disappearance, Arnold and Phoebe would meet at the same spot. They had found each other that first year, right there in this little park. They had both sat, by a strange turn of fate, on the same old green bench, when their mutual presence was all they had had for comfort.

No one else understood. No one else really cared about Helga. Not like they did anyway.

As he had done annually for the past seven years, Arnold waited for her on the bench. He waited for Phoebe. So that then, together, they could wait for Helga.

Finally the young Japonese girl arrived, to sit silently next to him. They both stared ahead, neither feeling any need to exchange polite questions and pleasantries. Gerald both kept them updated on each other's lives anyway. And it was surely the silence they liked best about each other. The mutual understanding that talking about it didn't really help. They communicated with small pieces of their thoughts, things they just couldn't hold in. Sometimes it had nothing to do with Helga, as the words poured from their lips without any conscious thinking actually made behind them. But most of the time it was though. About her. Nostalgia thickened the air and made it heavy as words turned morose; it was like her spirit hanged softly around them, asking not to be forgotten. A weird trance overtook Arnold and Phoebe, when they sat in the park once a year.

The alcohol brought by Arnold did nothing to improve the rationality of things. They alternated taking sips from the glass bottle for a while, eyes lost in endless expansions of grass and leaves, harder and harder to make out as the light was growing dim with the inevitable passage of time. They weren't sure if it was cold or not. It was that time of year.

Suddenly Phoebe's laugh echoed through the silence.

"If she could see us Arnold!" She giggled. "Oh! If only she could see us here on this stupid bench. We would never hear the end of it."

"She would mock us until the end of time." Arnold agreed, nodding his head dazedly.

"She'd say we were the biggest morons she'd ever seen!"

"Complete idiots!"

"Pathetic losers!"

They both burst out laughing even harder. It was the saddest thing in the world.

Words grew more confused as more alcohol was consumed. How long had they been sitting there? Seven years? Was it seven years now waiting for Helga with Phoebe Heyerdahl?

"You know I remember being in this park at night, looking for a dead bride with the guys. And than Helga appeared, dressed up just like her so she could scare us as punishment. We hadn't let her come along." Arnold explained, a smile painted upon his lips.

Arnold heard of voice on his left telling him something incoherent. He wouldn't have paid any attention to it only the voice sounded nothing like Phoebe's, despite the familiarity of the tone.

"Said this might happen….Bringing her home man…Damn…you ok?"

It was Gerald, Arnold realized. It was Gerald supporting Phoebe in his arms, taking her home, away from this empty desert of regrets.

"Did you know she was an amazing actress Gerald?" Arnold told his friend, holding on to the back of bench, "Do you realize she could pretend like no one else could? You could have her right in front of you… never knowing it was actually her."

His words were coming out slurred. There was silence. A sigh. The wind. Nothing more.

"I know…explained about Cecile thing before… home with Pheebs... You ok?"

Arnold shrugged. He's not sure if he ever properly answered Gerald though. But what did Gerald say really? Was he talking to him? Or was he talking to Helga? Where was Helga. _Oh right_, he remembered, _she's gone_. He felt a surge of anger toward his blond missing friend, an intolerable wave of resentment. How could she do this him? Why leave? Where? What time was it? Where was she? Where was he, right now?

Arnold took his head between his hands and stayed still for who knows how long. Time was relative anyway right?

At some point he realized he wasn't sitting anymore. That was strange. Someone was helping him walk.

"Gerald?" he asked, confused.

It wasn't Gerald. Much taller, way thinner. White skin and heavy breathing…

"Brainy?" Arnold guessed despite the fog enveloping his own mind.

Arnold wondered if he was being abducted. If Brainy was deranged. Maybe that's what Helga had felt when and if she had been kidnapped. Maybe Brainy did it. Maybe he was taking him where she was and they would be reunited by the bonds of captivity. Happiness pierced through his dulled-out senses, awakening him slightly from the trance he had been in.

"It's all going to be ok Arnold", he heard the person holding him say. "You're going to be ok."

-HA-

Stinky had ended up driving the jeep most of the way and so needless to say, they had gotten lost.

6 times.

We will spare you the details of the hours through the dark forest, the stop at the suspicious chicken farm, the meal at the gas stations with members of the mob and also the infamous incident with Little Whitey the goat.

Long story short, our friends had to stop in a motel for the night, where all the necessary arrangements were made after plenty of debates. Thankfully, everyone seemed satisfied with the results. Gerald was sharing a room with Eugene, Stinky, Sid and Harold were stuck together in a second one, and Rhonda had gotten her own. Thing was, Harold must have joined her at some point during the night, because Gerald, who was in a room adjacent to hers, had the privilege of hearing them going at it for hours. He would later learn that if Thaddeus Gammelthorpe was a great movie producer, he unfortunately lacked the qualities that made an equally good husband. In any case, that wasn't any of Gerald's business, so the next morning when they got back in the car and a rain of smug "where were you last night Harold " poured from all over the place, he took no part in it. Bless him. Mostly though, it was because it had been decided that he would be driving from now on and since he had gotten a very good night sleep he needed to pay extra attention to the road.

Soon enough (four hours later) they reached the town where Alexandra Stiles apparently lived. Their victory was short lived however, when they drove around empty streets for ages without managing to find neither the road nor house they were looking for.

"That's it Stinky! We've all had enough! Just give the damn map to Rhonda or Sid!" Gerald ordered.

"It ain't my fault this town so peculiarly arranged the map makes no sense!" Stinky complained.

"Ever wondered if it wasn't simply you who couldn't read a map, rather than the town being 'peculiarly arranged'?" Sid argued.

"Guys why don't we stop at this diner to get coffee and ask for directions?" Eugene offered, hopping to smooth things up.

He was pointing at a fine establishment, which promised the best apple pies of the area on its store window.

"Sounds like a plan!" Harold approved licking his lips.

Apparently he had read the sign as well.

Sid and Stinky gave their approval and Rhonda just sighed but didn't complain so they parked the car and headed toward the restaurant. Their spirit was only slightly improving when, just as they were going in, Eugene slammed straight into a lady with a huge hat who hadn't seen him either, leading her to spill her boiling coffee all over him, Sid bumping into Eugene, Harold bumping into Sid and so on and so on. If this were a sitcom, laughs would have surely been heard in the background as result of such a theatrical display of clumsiness.

"Watch where you're going!" the assaulted woman grumpily complained, apparently unamused by the whole ordeal, all the while pushing her way out of the store.

"It burns! It burns!" Harold yelled.

"Harold you haven't been hit! It's Eugene who has hot coffee dripping all over him right now!" Rhonda patronized.

"Oh. Right!"

Harold calmed down instantly.

"I'm ok!" reassured Eugene, although still grimacing through the pain.

"This trip is a complete disaster!" Sid complained.

Gerald sighed and tried to ignore how much of a mess they must have all looked like right now to the group of townies tranquilly sitting down while enjoying a nice breakfast.

"Let's just get our coffees and go!" he said with a sigh, more than ready to get a move on.

They did just that after asking for direction while Eugene went inside the restrooms to clean up. Soon enough they were all sitting back inside the car with their coffee in hand, except for Harold who had preferred a piece of pie and Eugene who, for some mysterious reason, had ended up declining a cup of the hot beverage.

One of the diner's waitresses had fortunately been able to more or less indicate the path they needed to take in order to reach Alexandra's home. She lived on the outskirts of town, at the border of a forest, in a gloomy little house. While parking next to it, Gerald thought this moment was like the beginning of a bad horror movie. The setting was simply perfect for it. Then, Sid shared the exact same thought to the group, and that's when Gerald decided they had been spending way too much time together. Really, the sooner they found Helga the better. For all of them.

"So what do we do now?" Harold asked.

"Hum, I don't know. Should we try something really crazy and like ring the doorbell or something?" ironized Rhonda.

Gerald ignored them, walked up to the door and tried his luck.

Nothing.

"Maybe she isn't home?" tried Eugene.

"Maybe she's a psycho killer, finishing someone up in her basement!" Supplied Sid.

"Either she didn't hear… or she doesn't want to answer!" Gerald decided. "The latent been the most probable-"

They were interrupted, as the door they were staring at abruptly opened, revealing a tall woman who was wearing a loose burgundy dress that fell below her knees.

"Yes?" She asked, surprised evident all over her face.

She apparently wasn't use to having a group of strangers showing up uninvited on her doorstep. Then again, who was?

"Hum, hi!" Gerald tried, the most polite he could be. "We huh… were wondering…I mean we were friends of Brainy's… Brian! And hum…"

Rhonda rolled her eyes at him. He hadn't chosen the best of days to be at lost for words. Luckily, the woman's eyes soften immediately upon hearing Brainy's name.

"Oh. I see!" She said quietly. "Would you like to come in?"

A couple of minutes later, they were sited in Alexandra's (it was her indeed) living room, while she brought them tea. She was quiet and obviously feeling uneasy, arms crossed upon her chest, and chin trying to hide away between her shoulders.

She had short brown hair, dark eyes and big glasses, which she seemed to use to cover her face along with a huge scarf that almost went up to her nose. She was clearly someone who liked to go unnoticed, and who tried her best to avoid social confrontations. Her house was bare of any pictures or souvenirs which could have connected her to anyone. Alexandra, as Timberly had guessed, had retreated into the safe arms of isolation.

No one dared to speak, afraid to scare her off. And so she's the one, surprisingly, who spoke first.

"So you knew Brian?" she asked timidly.

They all looked at each other, wondering where to start.

"Yes we did. From primary school."

"We were very sorry to hear he had past away." Eugene said carefully. "Even though we had kind of lost touch with him."

Alexandra tilted her head in confusion.

"So you are here to… pay you're respects?" she guessed, lowering her eyes.

"Yes… in a way. But we were also wondering if we could ask you a couple questions?" Gerald asked.

Alexandra furrowed her eyebrows, suddenly looking suspicious.

"Questions?"

"Brian had a… friend. Eleanor Veltrose." Gerald went on. "We are looking for her. We believe she could help us with… a problem we are having. And we were wondering if you knew her. Or even where we could find her?"

Alexandra bit her lip, looking hesitant.

"You did know her!" Sid exclaimed, noticing her expression.

"I-" The brunette had difficulty speaking.

"Please!" Stinky begged. "It's really important. Our friend Arnold—"

The woman blinked in surprise.

"Arnold?" she asked, a light of recognition in her eyes.

"You know Arnold?" Gerald asked, surprised.

Silence fell, as the woman's eyes wandered into space.

"She always spoke of an Arnold." She finally murmured.

"Who? Eleanor?"

Alexandra nodded, in slow motions.

"Yes."

-HA-

Every single event which had unfolded so that he'd end up here were a blur to Arnold.

How long ago was it that Brainy had shown up at his place?

_There's something you need to know, Arnold._

Is that really what he had said? Yes, something along those lines. How long had it been since he had read the letter? A week. Two weeks. An entire emotional rollercoaster, built out of ridicules highs and yet even stronger lows, that's how long it had been. Then there were the calls. The plane. He still wasn't sure how he got the money. What if he hadn't? His bank account was probably too low as of now…

Arnold had never been so far from home. Never been to Europe. He had been excited, it had all seemed perfect in a sense, at the time at least. How long had it taken him to find the house? How many days spent at the hotel, in a café, rereading through her note hesitating, questioning, hoping.

_Can I help you lad? _

How many times had he walked up and down her street, hoping to run into her. How had he gotten here? How did he know the address? Was it Brainy? The yellow pages? Who? Had he known precisely where to find her or had he just end up at her house, where he was supposed to be?

_Yes. Maybe. I'm looking for someone._

How many times had he pressed that button? Heard that doorbell ring? Felt his heart excelerate just a little bit more, only to slow down when nothing would happen?

_I'm really sorry. Was she a friend of yours?_

How long had it been? How far had he run? How had he found himself here, isolated, surrounded by the dead?

_I think they said it was instantaneous. There was no pain._

How long had she suffered alone, all the way across the world?

How many tears had been shed since he had heard the news?

_She's no too far from here if you want to go see her._

How many days ago should he have gotten there in order to save her?

How did it all end like this in front of Eleanor Veltrose's tombstone?

-HA-

"Arnold! Hey! Arnold!"

The blond blinked an eye opened to find his best friend staring down at him.

"Gerald?!" he asked.

He had been falling asleep on his kitchen table.

"Are you ok?"

Gerald seemed in a incredibly good mood, which surprised Arnold. He hadn't seen anybody look very happy recently, not with Pookie being at the hospital. Which, is maybe what compelled him to confess:

"I broke up with her. Lila. It's over, for good."

Gerald wasn't very surprised, but he asked anyway:

"Why?"

"I couldn't do it anymore Gerald. It wasn't fair to Lila, wasting her life as I was. I'll never love her. At least not the way she deserves. I told her how I gave my heart to someone else a long and she never gave it back. I told her how she deserved someone who could give her everything. That person just isn't me."

And just like that, Gerald mood dropped. Suddenly, he was afraid once more. Not because Arnold looked devastated over his break-up with his long-term girlfriend. Nor because he looked even the tiniest bit defeated. Gerald felt his heart twinge because Arnold actually looked like he felt absolutely nothing at all. His traits were emotionless, still and undisturbed in the least. Like he had just announced that he had eaten yoghurt for desert rather than such big news. Sure, Gerald knew about Arnold's feelings for Helga, but to see him care so little about anything else? To see him talk about his break-up with Lila like it hadn't meant a thing? It just wasn't the Arnold he knew. Gerald was afraid, and so he decided it was time for Arnold to know what they knew.

"I think we may have found Helga!" He blurted out.

Arnold blinked at him like he hadn't heard him properly.

"We think she ran away, and that Brainy helped her do it. We found his aunt, who confirmed a friend of his named Eleanor lived with her for a couple of years."

Arnold tried to interrupt him:

"Gerald—"

But the other man wouldn't listen.

"That girl talked about you Arnold. All the time. She and Alexandra, that's Brainy aunt by the way, they bounded. Had some stuff in common. An abusive family member!" Gerald explained, emphasizing on the last part so that Arnold would catch on. "They became friends, and Eleanor hid in a town close to here for almost seven years."

Arnold grimaced like he was in pain. He started shaking his head, unwilling to hear what Gerald had to say. But he went on anyway.

"Eleanor is in England. We're going to go find her! And if she has moved, we'll continue searching! Arnold, we won't stop until we bring her home! We know it's her! It has to be Helga—"

Arnold rose from his chair.

"STOP IT!" He yelled.

Surprised beyond words, Gerald lost his ability to speak. This wasn't the type of reaction he had expected from Arnold. Disbelief, perhaps. But anger?

"I know about Eleanor!" Arnold explained, his voice breaking into a murmur. "I've known for a while."

Gerald mouth dropped. That just didn't make any sense.

"But… then why didn't you—"

Why didn't he go and get her was what Gerald meant to say, why weren't Helga and Arnold reunited already?

"It doesn't change anything!" Arnold said biting his lip. His shoulders slumped, anger drained from him. Now he only looked lifeless once more.

"She's dead Gerald. Helga is dead."

* * *

The End.

(Jokes)

A/N: There's actually one more chapter to go, in which everything will unfold. Dun dun dun. Until then, I hope you enjoyed this part. Would love to hear your thoughts!


	4. Chapter 4

AN: So, turns out **this isn't the last chapter. **Sorry for dragging this on.

I was going to write this reeeally big chapter so you would have the ending all in one go. But then I realized it was going to be far too long and cluttered, you guys would probably feel bombarded with way too much revelations at once, and so maybe you would lose track/interest as things wouldn't be clear. (No it's not because I'm lazy at all. Really.)

So there's going to be** ONE MORE c**hapter after this one. It's half written already so that's a plus I guess?

Also, I'm thinking maybe this chapter should be **rated M** for some bits of violence here and there. It's not that bad but I'd rather warn you just in case.

Have a good read!

* * *

All in all, she had had a pretty good evening.

Indeed, things had been going well for them recently.

Things had been going well for a while where she was concerned actually.

Sighing back against the car seat, the young woman smiled softly. She reflected silently, happily, back upon her life. Back to her joyful, spoiled childhood, surrounded by a loving, traditional family; filled with silly games, warm memories of friendships and secrets and dolls and cute boys. Back upon high school, where she had been so unjustly popular, a cheerleader, prom queen even. It was no surprise, seeing how she had always been gifted with a beautiful figure, all slender legs, golden locks and clear blue eyes. She was an attractive young woman, smart, charming, surrounded with love and support.

She had married her high school sweetheart.

Sure, her father had complained at first, claiming he wasn't good enough for his little girl. Foreign origins, (_but he was born in the U.S daddy_) a simple background…His princess deserved better. But she had learned how to skillfully obtain what she wanted over the years, how to wield a certain power over others. She was all subtlety and determination hidden between charisma and good looks. There was really nothing she desired that would stay out of her reach for long.

And soon enough they had been married. Blissfully happy.

Besides, her beau had proven her father wrong soon enough. He had undertaken excellent studies, in an impressive college where he succeeded in obtaining top grades. Now he was starting his own business, bravely and with the same extraordinary confidence that had swept her off her feet. All he needed were partners. Investors, who would trust her man would succeed well enough so that everyone could benefit. And he had found those investors. Earlier tonight.

Things were going great for them. So great. And their daughter. Their perfect little girl. No parents could be more proud. She was waiting for them at home, sleeping peacefully, no doubt. How she longed to hold her daughter now.

Life was good, amazing, wonderful.

And so, it had reached that fatal point when ultimately things would have to turn around. It was only a moment now. The moment everything would change, things would unfold, lives would be ruined. Death was near.

_Just a while now_…

Their car hit something. It was brutal. For a couple of seconds none of them understood. It couldn't be. Things like that didn't happen to people like them.

But her husband had been drinking that night, hadn't he? Engrossed in his conversation, absorbed by his need to persuade, he had thrown himself into words, eye contact, arguments and compliments. He needed investors. Nothing else had mattered. And once he was assured that he had them, he had felt the world was at his feet. He was king. He could do anything. He could certainly drive home under the influence. What would he look like, if he were to admit he couldn't handle a couple of drinks? It's not like his beautiful wife could drive. Her license was regularly denied from her, seeing the danger she was behind the wheel. No he had to do it. They had gotten into the car, and he had gotten behind the wheel and for a little while longer they had enjoyed the perfection of their lives, for just a little while longer before it was all over for them.

The girl was dead. She was very young, fourteen or fifteen at most. Light hair, tainted by the bits of her brain that leaked out of her skull along with blood onto the dirt. Her baby blue eyes were wide open, taunting them, her body sprayed on the remains of her bike at an inhuman angle.

He had panicked. Vehicular homicide, that meant prison for him no questions asked. He would be lucky if he got out before ten years. And even then what would he do?

His life was ruined. They were ruined. The company, their savings which he had put into it, the sum his father-in-law had put into it… all for nothing.

She would become homeless, husband-less, humiliated. That wasn't what her life was suppose to turn out like. It was all meant to be smooth and happy and full of success after success, a whole escalation of flawlessness.

But most importantly, she had child waiting at home. And a second one on the way, who would certainly not be born into the world without its father, without money or security to protect him.

"Get in the car!" She told him. "And drive."

"But…"

"She's not breathing. There's nothing we can do about it. So right now we must think of us."

"But—"

"Think of Olga, B!" The woman had argued. "She's home, waiting for her father to come back. And I'll be damn before I let you be taken away for something you didn't mean to do!"

The man still hesitated. Miriam had always been strong. Much more than he. She made the decisions, she was the leader. But he just didn't know what to do.

"Bob Pataki you listen to me!" His wife articulated. "I've got your second child growing inside of me as we speak! I'm pregnant you hear me? Now are you going to get in the car and secure your son's future? Or are you going to stay here and abandon us?" she demanded, hands on his shoulders, eyes pouring into his.

"My son?"

"It's going to be a boy!" She told him firmly.

Miriam Pataki had always known how to get what she wanted in life. And she knew what her husband wanted most was a son. So that's how she managed to get him back inside the care and to drive her home. That's how she managed to make him swear to lie right along her side for the rests of their lives.

By promising him something he would never have.

-HA-

It was at the hospital, as his grandmother's end was growing near, that Arnold told Gerald everything. He told him how, the morning after Brainy had helped him home from his evening in the park with Phoebe, the young man had came to see Arnold with a letter. A letter he should have given Arnold a long time ago, and so he had apologized profusely and Arnold had said it was fine until he realized who it was from. And by the time he was done reading it carefully, his forgiving mood had all but vanished.

_Arnold,_

_I'm sorry for keeping silent so long. If you resent my absence at all, please believe me when I swear it has been much harder for me to be apart than for you._

_Maybe, today, you no longer consider me a friend. Maybe you hate me for disappearing the way I did. Or maybe you're just unable to bring yourself to care, as I've been gone from your life for so long. I never forgot about you. I could never. There isn't a day that has passed in which I haven't woken up with you on mind, only to go to sleep with images of you clouding my thoughts._

_I want to explain everything but I can't. There's so much you don't know, I can't possibly begin to make you understand in a simple letter. I find, as I write, that words are difficult to conjure._

_I have to see you._

_Please meet me this upcoming Thursday at noon. JFK airport. Gate 46._

_I'll wait for you Arnold._

_H._

Gerald wasn't surprise to see Arnold remembered it still, word for word. He said nothing and waiting for the story to unfold.

So Arnold explained what he knew. That Brainy had never given him the letter. In his defense, he had no idea what was in it or so he claimed. It's just that Brainy loved Helga, always had, with all his heart. So much so that he wanted to keep the role of her protector for himself.

Arnold explained all of which Brainy had confide, all that he had learned from the secretive boy.

When Helga had came to him asking for his help, Brainy had felt like his life was finally beginning. Like he had been asleep, waiting for things to suddenly have meaning, and then just like that Helga Pataki was awakening him with a purpose. She trusted him, it seemed, more than anyone. Even more than Arnold, the boy he knew Helga had always loved. Could it be that things were finally turning around? Could it be that in this moment of crisis, Helga has suddenly been made aware of feelings she had carried within her, unknowingly, all this time?

"Either he was a crazy bastard… or he had it bad!" Gerald intervened.

Arnold shrugged.

"Helga had that effect on people!" He told him. "Anyway as you can imagine, I was so mad at Brainy. I didn't even know what to say. I thought I was going to kill him!"

The blond went on, saying how Brainy had tried to justify himself. He was so sorry. He loved Helga. He only wanted her happiness. He was the one that had helped her escape. He had taken her to his aunt, his friend, Alexandra. He knew the older woman would understand. She had went through similar things. She wouldn't be able to refuse Helga her help. She hadn't, and the teen had hid with her for about five years. Five years she was hidden right there, so close. And Brainy was the only one who knew. He was her confidant. He was the one who got to tell Helga about the life that still went on at Hillwood. He told about her father. About Phoebe. And most importantly he told her about Arnold. But Helga wouldn't go back. She wanted to stay hidden, with him, her last droplet of support.

Except one day Helga had learned of her mother's death. Her father, terribly ill, was to join her soon. She contacted him. Brainy never knew what was said. But the man left her his fortune.

Brainy feared she would go back home then, that she would leave him.

But what happened was even worst in his opinion. Helga wanted to run even further. Couldn't stick around, she had said. Couldn't go back there either. It was too hard. She bought a house in London, and made preparation to start her new life across the sea.

Oh how he had hoped she would take him with her. He had hid her for so long. Been with her through everything. He had helped her escape it all, without ever being sure of what she was running away from. Violence? Pain? Hits? Her father? Her explanations were vague at best. She never gave him the full story. She said it was dangerous. But still he had been there.

"So wait!" Gerald cut again. "We're still not sure what happened to Helga or why she ran? I thought it was obvious it was because of her dad."

"It really doesn't matter why when you hear the end of the story." Responded Arnold

So Gerald urged him to go on and his friend did. He continued Brainy's tale.

Suddenly Helga was leaving, and it wasn't Brainy she was hoping to bring along. It was Arnold. It was always Arnold. She wanted to see him. To explain everything to him. She had been waiting all this time, for the day she would get to see Arnold again.

Helga wrote a letter. And Brainy could only guess what was in it: an invitation, a plea for the man she loved to follow her across the world, to start a new life with her. That letter was the key to a door Brainy had desperately wanted to open all of his life, right there in his hands, and she trusted him to give it to somebody else.

He just couldn't do it. He kept the letter. God, he was sorry, so sorry he had kept saying.

So sorry, in fact; that he just couldn't face her. She would know. She would see his betrayal. He didn't deserve Helga anymore.

Brainy hid inside his home, knowing she was now desperately far away, gone from him forever. He couldn't even bare to go visit poor Alexandra anymore. She reminded him too much of Helga. The two had been so close. He crossed his aunt out of his life, and she never called him back inside of it. Neither did Helga, as much as he had hoped that she would.

A year passed and he, Brainy, ran into Arnold, lost in a park at night. He thought it was fate, reminding him of what needed to be done. Arnold, he had said, had been looking so terrible, with his ashen face and red eyes, incoherent words and sadness so palpable Brainy thought he couldn't breeze. Arnold had talked about her. And that's how Brainy realized they weren't so different. Arnold loved Helga just as much as he did. He needed her.

All this time Brainy had believed that no one could love Helga the way he did, and that he, therefore, should be the one to be with her. But that night he had realized how wrong he had been.

Gerald held back the remark that Arnold was just as crazy as Brainy, eager and yet dreading to see how it would all end.

Brainy had realized Arnold deserved Helga that night where he found him at the park and brought him home. That was why he had shown up the next day, hoping to make things right, by giving Arnold the letter.

"_Find her!"_ He had said. _"Go and bring her home!"_

Brainy, at least, had an address to give him.

Arnold said nothing more to him and a couple of days later he was on a plane to London. It took him a while to find the courage to show up on Helga's doorstep, he confessed. He was scared to see her again. Afraid that she wouldn't forgive him for being so late. Helga or Eleanor Veltrose, as she now called herself. He had smiled at the name.

But when Arnold had rung her doorbell, no one ever came to open. An old lady from across the street ended up taking pity on him after seeing him wait on the front step for hours in the cold. She had asked if she could help him somehow and when he told her who he was looking for, her eyes had widen, and her expression had sadden.

"Yes, she used to live here. I remember her. Lovely young woman." She had said.

Arnold, a bad feeling in his gut, had asked if she had moved.

But no, Helga hadn't moved. Instead she had swallowed two entire tablets of sleeping pills along with a full bottle of vodka, and had fallen into an eternal sleep.

"They said there wasn't any pain." The old woman had explained to him softly, hoping to give him some comfort.

Unfortunately Arnold experienced no such thing. How could he begin to believe Helga had felt no pain when she had thought the best thing to do was to leave this world for ever? How desperate and alone must she have felt for her to reach such a point?

If only Brainy had given him the letter sooner… he could have saved her. Could have found her in time. She could have known how much he loved her and missed her and wanted to be with her. Of course he would have followed her to England, he would have gone anywhere with her. He would have done anything.

But it was too late. He had been seven years too late. And that was it.

Gerald was silent for a while, reflecting upon Arnold's words.

"So… you've known about Helga's death for three years now… and yet you haven't told anyone?" Gerald finally asked, disbelieving.

Arnold shrugged.

" Would it have changed anything? Nobody really missed her. Her father was dead at that point and I still don't know what happened to her sister. The only person that cared was Phoebe. And she was moving on. She was finally starting to really be happy again, with you. I thought it would be better if she always believed that maybe Helga was alive somewhere. I felt like letting everyone know she ended up… doing what she did…it would be like betraying her memory."

Gerald gave him a small sympathetic smile.

"Helga was a fighter!"

"Yes." Arnold approved simply.

"So you've never told anybody about this then?" Gerald pushed.

Arnold raised his eyes toward him.

"Well, I did tell—"

"Mr. Shortman!"

A nurse was rushing to them, a guarded look upon her features.

"You must come with me immediately."

Arnold rose from his seat, apprehension written all over his face.

"What's happening?"

"It's your grandmother sir!" The nursed explained. "Her condition is critical. I believe, now would be a good time to say your goodbyes."

Without looking back, Arnold followed the nurse to see his grandmother one last time. It was the least he could do, but what was there to say really? It just didn't seem fair. He was so tired of saying goodbye. At least his grandma would get to actually hear him say the words.

-HA-

Brainy hadn't expect Arnold to come see him. He had more or less expected, well hoped really, that Helga would come. He had been waiting since Arnold had left for England. But Helga wasn't with him.

Brainy hadn't expect to get punched in the face either. He blinked at his attacker questioningly.

"She's dead!" Arnold had spat.

Brainy was speechless. His brain, ironically, was failing him at that moment. It couldn't be true. Arnold just wanted to get back at him for what he had done. She couldn't be—

"She killed herself!" The blond continued, furiously. "She was all alone over there and god knows what went on inside her head. She had no one Brainy!" He yelled, desperate to place his guilt onto someone else.

"No!" The other man said. "She can't be! She wouldn't!"

"Well she did!" Arnold insisted, taking no pity on his crestfallen expression. "She died, alone, in her living room."

Brainy was trying to speak, he really was, but the words just wouldn't come. His mind projected images of her, pale and unconscious on her floor, inhaling her one, final breath, with no one there to hear her.

Brainy just shook his head in denial. He didn't want to hear this. Why was Arnold telling him this?

"If you'd just given me the letter when you should none of his would have happen!" Arnold went relentless, grief overwhelming his senses and pushing him to say unforgivable things.

But he couldn't help but mean them a little. Why hadn't Brainy given him the letter? Why did he have to take his last chance away? Why did have to take Helga away?

"Arnold, you don't know what she had been through!" Brainy said, finally finding his words. "You hadn't seen her all these years. She was… I don't know how to explain it really… but she was terrified. And also unexplainably sad. I've never once seen her happy, of all the times I've been with her! I don't know if anyone could have done anything for her… Something terrible had happened and she wouldn't tell me what but—"

"You know nothing!" Arnold had yelled, shaking him by the collar in a fit of rage. "I could have tried to help! I would have been there for her, to talk to her, be with her! But you took that away from me! You took HER from me! And now there's nothing to be done! She's gone Brainy!"

Arnold felt something wet against his cheeks and he never knew if it was his tears or Brainy's or both. The other man said nothing after that. He just let Arnold hold him by the collar, willing to accept his rage and agony. He was numbed by his own emotions anyway.

After a while Arnold dropped him, having no more to say. He turned, unwilling to ever look at him again, unwilling to ever take back the harsh words he knew had been unfair. It just wasn't him to blame others for his sorrows. Arnold, in his right mind, would have never done that. But he was beside himself with pain. And so he tried to leave.

Only Arnold was Arnold, and when he reached the door's step he turned back around and kneeled beside Brainy.

"I'm sorry." He said as he took a deep breath. "I know it wasn't your fault. Really, I know."

Arnold ran a tired hand through his messy hair.

"Sometimes, most of the time, bad things happen to good people. Things they don't deserve, things so terrible it kills them. We will probably never know for sure why Helga did what she did. Maybe her father had pushed her to her limits… and she couldn't really recover. I guess she felt she would never be safe and it would never get better."

Brainy just shook his head in silence.

"Bad things just happen Brainy. It's these bad things that killed her in the end, not you. You didn't know any better and neither did I!"

Arnold let out a shaky breath.

"I wish I could have saved her… I feel like I've had my chance to save her… but I failed her her whole life." He admitted brokenly.

Arnold placed a hand on Brainy shoulder, both giving and seeking comfort. The other man kept silent for a long while. But then he finally said, softly:

"Thank you Arnold."

And this time the blond walked away for good, he never looked back.

A week later, Brainy would hang himself.

-HA-

The funeral was a blur of black and gray, of rain and tears and empty exchanges and meaningful words.

"If she was here with us now she would have refused to take the whole thing too seriously. She'd dress up in bright pink mixed with green and make a game out of the whole thing. Grandma had a way of living like that. It made my childhood all the better, and I can't be grateful enough to have had someone like her in my life."

Many people came and went. Everyone was frustratingly silent. Arnold knew she would have hated it.

"I don't know how I'm going to do without her. All I know is I'm eating raspberries as soon as we get home. They never did me any good, but I know Pookie would have fed them to me! I also plan on firing some fireworks. Those are always a laugh."

Grandpa was the only to carry on as she would have wanted him to. He was wearing a pirate costume that morning. His Pookie would have loved it.

Nothing meaningful happened. No epiphanies about how life would go on. No rainbow just at the right moment or any sign of symbolic renewal. Things seemed to fade all around them into nothingness. It was slow and fast all at once and Arnold sometimes forgot where he was.

Gerald and the others stood faithfully beside him, projecting their support as best as they could.

Arnold felt he was blurring away with the décor. As he stood, he imagined his grandmother suddenly walking by, out of nowhere. For some reason there was a hula-hoop dancing around her waist. It was fitting. Besides her, Arnold saw Brainy, peaceful with a quiet smile on his lips. There were Helga's parents then. They seemed uneasy and full of sorrow. Arnold felt they wanted to tell him something. But it was impossible to speak with the dead. Then he saw his own parents smiling at him, waving at his direction in encouragement and pride, but their eyes betraying worry and regret. His grandma led the troop brightly, appearing to want to cheer them on. "The show must go on!" She seemed to say. Arnold looked around but he couldn't see Helga. He wondered why she wasn't with the lot of them. It was his dream after all, and he wished he could have seen her. But his imagination seemed unwilling to grant him this one wish. Stupid brain.

Before he knew it it was close to noon and their somber procession was walking back to the boarding house in silent. Or maybe they spoke. Arnold wasn't really listening.

Once he got home he went through the motion and patiently waited for people to get their message of comfort out, over and done with. His grandpa stood close to him, a silent pillar of strength. Arnold just didn't know how the man did it.

Mr. Green was there, sitting awkwardly next to Mrs. Vitello. Dino Spumoni was present. And Gerald's parents, Jamie-O and Timberly. And all the old borders were there as well, looking anguished, patting Arnold's arm in turn. There was Nadine, who had came all the way from Uganda and Sheena too, despite her reticence to meet with Eugene ever since the painful divorce. Lila had showed, discreetly offering her support, expecting nothing in return. She was talking with Phoebe, trying to figure out the best way to be there for Arnold when he clearly wanted to be left alone. There were all there for him, though. They had come for Arnold.

Gerald and the team had retreated in a corner, a secluded area. They felt different, apart from everyone else. There were the only one in on a big secret, and had a whole other weight on their shoulders. Whole others reasons to pay their respects. They grieved for Arnold's loss, but mostly they grieved their defeat. They grieved for Helga.

All of them feared for the worst. How was Arnold going to handle it all? Why was the world so unfair, bad things always happening in endless waves to good people? Gerald feared for Phoebe. Should he tell how it had all ended? He just didn't know anymore. It all felt so wrong.

"I can't believe after all of this… all this time…" Eugene mumbled at loss for meaningful things to say.

"Yeah. She was dead the whole time." Sid said grimly, less careful about what to say in such a context. "I would have never thought Pataki would be one to end her own life!"

Everyone nodded in agreement. They were surprisingly very sad about Helga's fate. They had been hoping, no expecting to find her. They had felt as if they had gotten closer to her somehow during their search.

"It's like, after all these years, I finally understand her a bit! Isn't that weird…" Rhonda expressed.

"I see what you mean." Harold said placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"This funeral… it's kind of Helga's too isn't it?" Stinky remarked. "I mean, now is the moment we say goodbye. On account that we never have before."

They all approved and were quiet for a while, their minds reflecting on what they knew of Helga. Of Arnold. Of their story.

"I can't believe she sold you her clothes Rhonda!" Sid laughed quietly.

"Yeah, and got a job at a shitty bar while being under-aged." Rhonda said.

"She was brave! No matter how it ended, she was a survivor!" Eugene stated.

"She was smart as well!" Stinky added.

"And very sad. And lonely." Harold concluded.

They all turned to Gerald.

"Helga Pataki was a pain in the ass! She had way to much wit for her own good, and a crappy attitude!" Gerald affirmed. "And what happened to her sucks. No matter what it was, she deserved none of that crap. She was one of the good ones!" he said, resigned.

They all looked at each other and smiled a bit, willing and yet sorry to move on. They didn't want it to end, like there was something missing and yet no one knew what to add.

"What about something on behalf of Arnold and Phoebe too!" Rhonda suddenly exclaimed.

"If this is Helga's funeral, than the two people who loved her most have to say something!" Eugene agreed.

They all turned to Gerald. Only he could speak in the names of Phoebe and Arnold. He searched inside his memory, for something meaningful both of them could have said.

"Well. Helga was Pheeb's best friend. A great friend!" Gerald started. "And something I remember Phoebe saying not so long ago, was that Helga loved Arnold with all her heart, and she could never keep away from him very long!"

Everyone smiled, touched by his words. Harold even dropped a tear.

"Sad love stories make me cry." He sniffed.

"Ok well here goes a fun detail!" His friend amended. "You need to remember those too when someone's gone!" Gerald went on. "Arnold once told me that Helga was an amazing actress!"

The others let out small laughs, in memory of their childhood, Helga's imitations and her performance in the school play!

"She was great!" Rhonda acknowledged.

"Yep!" Gerald affirmed. "She had a talent. In Arnold words 'You could have had her right in front of you… never knowing it was actually her.' He knew this because—"

Gerald was about to tell them the story of Cecile. It would have been funny. And touching too; A reminder of Helga's skills and also of her love for this one blond haired boy.

But Gerald never told them the story. Because somewhere inside his mind, something had just clicked. It was like the puzzle had been missing its last few pieces, and now he had finally discovered that really important bit which would help them completing the whole.

"Oh my damn!" Gerald exclaimed.

The others looked at him like he had lost it. Well to be fair, it really looked like he had. He appeared as if touched by divine inspiration and it made him seem even more agitated than usual.

"What's going on Gerald?" Stinky asked confused.

"You look happy Johansen! That must be one hell of a story you got in store for us!" Rhonda remarked, expecting to hear what Gerald had started to tell them.

"It most certainly is!" Gerald responded, eyes not focusing on anything within his field of vision.

"Did you take one of my happy pills?" Sid asked. "Because I brought them for Arnold not you."

Gerald ignored him.

"At the beginning of our investigation, you guys were wondering how we were ever going to solve this case without any information from the people who knew Helga the most!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

"Yeah…" Eugene urged him to go on.

"So?" Sid backed up.

To their astonishment Gerald burst out laughing. And then he started walking toward the front door shaking his head in disbelief.

"Where are you heading now?" Rhonda called after him.

"There's something I have to do! It might take a while! But tell Arnold I'll be back!" Gerald answered over his shoulder.

At the last minute he turned around.

"Stinky, I'm gonna need you to come with me!" He told the tall young man, confidently.

His friend shrugged in confusion but went after him anyway.

"I better go!" He told the others. "I reckon Gerald may have lost his marbles!"

The rest of the group watch them walk away in silence, completely stunned.

Turns out Pookie probably would have loved her funeral after all. People were going crazy!

-HA-

Time and time again Arnold had thought about the reasons Helga could have done what she had. He couldn't believe it, and somehow he was certain it wasn't just the shock talking, a form of denial. It just didn't seem right to him. She wouldn't kill herself, not the Helga he once knew. Of course, years had gone by since he had last seen her. And sometimes he doubted he ever really knew her. There had always been something evasive about Helga.

When she was with him, he felt as though the whole truth was never completely displayed. It had always been this way, even back when they were little. But Arnold remembered the day the enigma had taken a more concrete form. The day he had both realized he didn't know everything about Helga but also that he never would. The day Helga would stop talking to him completely and would start avoiding him like the pest, until they were about fifteen.

He had been on a camping trip with Gerald and Grandpa. It was the year they had started middle school, a couple of months after the other camping trip, the one he had taken with his classmates from PS.118 as summer was ending, as their lives were about to change. And they had changed, everyone was moving on. Some friendships were fading, new ones were made. That's how things were bound to happen anyway. He and Gerald were still thick as thieves though, that was a relief. And so that weekend they had planned a camping trip, just like when they were younger. At some point in the afternoon, Arnold had walked off to collect edible berries and had wandered off much further into the forest than he had originally planned. There was still daylight though, so he wasn't worried about getting lost. Just as he was about to go back, he saw them. Big Bob Pataki and Helga, helping a woman climb into a car. Arnold recognized her as Helga's mother. The blond woman sat obediently into the back seat of the vehicle, her expression dazed. She looked in his direction but didn't seem to recognize him. In fact it was as if she couldn't even see him. Her eyes were lost. But then Big Bob noticed him. Arnold never forgot his expression. Shock then anger but most of all, fear. Sharp, raw fear. Arnold had never seen such a look on a grown man's face before. For a moment, Big Bob was afraid, panicked. He was about to walk towards him, but Helga stopped him by grabbing onto to his forearm. She looked frantic. She spoke to him agitatedly, quickly if the way she moved her lips were any indication. Arnold was frozen into place. He had never felt more uncomfortable in his entire life, certain that he had interrupted a very particular moment. Something had been going on. What he didn't know. But he had a terrible feeling in his gut. Never had he seen Helga like this. Finally she walked up to him. Arnold vaguely noticed there was something strange about her clothes but he was too mesmerize by her expression to instantly realize what it was.

She looked at him, than at her feet, than stared right into his eyes.

"Arnold, I need you to do something for me." She said softly.

Never had she spoken to him like this. To anyone he knew of. There was something about her eyes that day, about the way she looked at him.

"What is it Helga?" He answered, as calmly as he could.

"You must never tell anyone that you saw me here today. Me or my parents. We were never here. It's really important. Ok Arnold?"

Her words came out slowly and carefully. It was because she was begging him, Arnold had thought. Helga was begging.

"But…" he tried to speak, to objected and raise a question. She stopped him like she had her father, grabbing onto his arm.

"Please."

It was the please that convinced him. There was something about it. Arnold nodded in agreement, and Helga left with her parents, inside their big, black car. The sight would haunt him still today.

Arnold hadn't lied to Helga. Seven years had passed and he hadn't told a soul about that day in the forest. When he got back to Gerald and Phil, he pretended he had gotten lost. And, later, when he would think back upon the incident, and someone would notice and ask, he would always tell a lie. Because he had identified, not long after the car had gone, the emotion reflected inside of Helga's eyes. Desperation.

But there had been something else too. A detail which, for some reason, Arnold's mind had taken longer to register. But when it did, it became impossible for Arnold to ignore it.

Helga's clothe. There had been blood on them.

-HA

Gerald actually needed Stinky to give him the key to one of his rental cars again. Stinky climbed inside the vehicle with him, unsure to where they were driving but tagging along for the ride anyway. A couple of hours later, he regretted that decision, as he got tired of Gerald amazed expression and cryptic answers. Also, the guy was driving impossibly fat, like he couldn't wait to get to Disneyland or something. Stinky was super confused. Beside shouldn't they be at the funeral with Arnold? But Gerald just kept on driving with a renewed dedication. So Stinky ended up keeping quiet and waited for them to reach their final destination. He sure hoped they weren't heading to Florida or anything though. He hated that place. Way too much humidity.

Hours went by, cities went by and suddenly Stinky knew where they were.

"Gerald? Why come back here?" he questioned as their friend parked their car in front of Alexandra Stiles' place.

Gerald ignored him and walked up to the house.

"If you had more things to ask her, I reckon you could have just called this time!" Stinky insisted, unhappy about having gone through this whole trip again for nothing.

"Hell no!" Gerald finally answered him silently. "I'm not taking any chances! We're doing this live!" He stated, while ringing the doorbell.

Stinky was about to say something else but Gerald covered his mouth with a hand to prevent him from doing so. Stinky rolled his eyes.

That's when Alexandra Stiles opened the door for them and froze. Gerald smirked. Stinky's eyes went back and forth between the pair in despair of an explanation.

And then he noticed something was different about Alexandra. Her hair, firstly, was cascading down her back in blond waves. She looked younger too. Her glasses were gone… and had her eyes always been blue? It was the same woman and yet she was completely different. But still, Stinky thought she looked awfully familiar.

That's when Gerald ended their misery, and spoke first.

"Enough is enough." He firmly announced. "It's time you come home Helga!"

Stinky recognized her then. And he fell flat on his butt.

* * *

AN: And BAM! It isn't a zombie, it isn't a ghost! (The guys aren't high either if that's what you're thinking.) She's ALIVE! I can't believe some of you thought I would actually kill HELGA for real… At least not in a fic in which Pookie dies too. I'm sorry Pookie :'(

Also fear not, in the next and final (I swear it this time) chapter, there will be answers to:

- How she is actually alive after the whole 'Arnold weeps in front of her tomb' moment

- What happened and why she ran away and hid and everything.

- And probably answers to all the other questions you may have, if you haven't lost interest and decided to stop reading this fix by now.

Thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Hellooo! Get ready for the usual "sorry for taking SO long but I was supper busy!" Here goes: Sorry guys, it took a long time I know, but I was really busy. I was, really I started a new job.

Also I'm so sorry for not replying to your reviews personally. I was so happy with them seriously you guys are so encouraging! Wow! I'm amazed! But I thought delivering this as fast as possible was the most important thing, no?

I'm glad all of you were happy to see Helga alive, I'm sorry for those who cried, and I'm SO touched about all of you who took the time to say something!

ANYWAY here is the ending! Finally, the real ending this time!

Perhaps this chapter should be **rated M** too, for some violent parts…

Enjoy!

* * *

The day Helga Pataki sealed Alexandra Stiles' fate went like this.

The now twenty-three years old had been waiting in front of Gate 46 at the airport. But really she felt as if she had been waiting her whole life.

She had hoped and prayed and begged and imagined, the moment where she and Arnold would finally be. The moment he would admit to feeling what she felt and they could be together, away from here, away from this poor semblance of a life.

Helga had woken up that morning with new hope in her heart. For once, she had foolishly believed that it would all be different. That she wouldn't have her heart broken again. She should have known better.

Helga had been cursed before she was even born into this world; cursed by fate and forever doomed to be unhappy, alone and unloved. The where and whys didn't seem to matter anymore and Helga had since long accepted her burden. Why she thought that today would be different seemed beyond her now. Why would it ever change? Some people were born lucky, some weren't. She belonged to the second category, the one where the sooner you realized happiness wasn't meant for everyone the better.

Of course it had to be this way. Of course he didn't care.

She couldn't even bring herself to be angry or disappointed with him anymore. Her bitterness was toward herself, for having been so foolish. She knew, she had always known, that she didn't deserve him.

Resigned, she took her phone out of her purse and called the only person that could really understand her.

"It's me." She said after hearing the sound pick up on the other end. "He didn't come."

She tried not to let her voice shake but it was harder than expected. She concentrated on the response she got from the other end:

"I'm so sorry Helga."

The blond girl let out a shaky sigh.

"I feel so stupid Alex. How could I possibly think—"

"Don't you dare say that! You had hope. No one should ever feel stupid for having hope. For what it's worth I think it shows courage. And God knows I forgotten how that must feel."

Helga scoffed.

"Alexandra Stiles! You let me hide away with you for five years and you never doubted me! For that, you're the bravest person I know!"

The two women were silent for a while, none of them knowing what to say next.

"Well I guess this is goodbye." Alexandra finally said.

And that is how it should all have ended. With goodbye. But that day Helga Pataki twisted fate. This is what happened:

"I'm not going Alex. I can't go to London."

"But Helga!" Her friend protested. "You were so excited. This was the opportunity you were waiting for to leave your old life behind. To start afresh."

Helga shook her head even if Alexandra couldn't see the movement on the other end.

"Starting a new life… it means nothing if Arnold isn't with me." She replied. "I can't be away from him Alex!"

"But the house you bought—"

"The house is yours…if you want it!"

Helga heard Alex gasp.

"Helga! I couldn't possibly—"

"You deserve a new start as much as I do. Possibly more! I thought about it Alex, and I want you to have the house. I want to give you the chance I can't take if Arnold isn't with me."

"No!" Her friend said firmly, "No Helga!"

"I saw how your eyes shined every time I spoke of England. I saw how much you would have wanted that chance to put all your suffering behind you. You didn't have the money. Well here it is, I'm giving it to you: The house, the plane ticket, my father's fortune. Everything. You can have everything. You can even have my name: you can become Eleanor. She helped me escape you know. Now she can help you too!"

"But what about you? What will you have?"

Helga smiled.

"I'll have my love. I'll have Arnold. Forever."

Alexandra laughed.

"You'll never give up will you?"

"I don't care if he doesn't feel the same way. I've had the chance of knowing him. I have the memories. That's enough for me." Helga answered.

She paused, thinking and went on:

"I'll take care of everything Alex. I'll arrange for the new ID, the passport… you'll be Eleanor Veltrose! And I'll stay here. I'll become Alexandra Stiles. Your past doesn't scare me!"

"Helga—I just don't know how to thank you…"

"It's me who should thank you. Without your help… I don't even want to think about it."

She heard Alexandra starting to cry.

"Thank you." The older woman said. "Thank you."

"We'll work everything out, together. You'll see, it's all going to be ok!"

-HA-

Gerald and Stinky were sitting in Alexandra's – Helga's- living room again, facing their blond friend for the first time (well, the first they were actually aware of) in ten years. Everything felt so still and surreal, as if something incredibly strange was about to happen. They were like characters on Edward Hopper's paintings. Always on the brink of something occurring. For them, the strange occurance was Helga.

Slowly, bit by bit, she was telling them her story.

"I thought I was doing Alex a favor by offering her this new life I had planned" the young woman was saying, "but I was wrong. She found herself alone out there and for people like us, to have nothing to hold onto, that's fatal. I should have known I was leading her to her death—"

Helga was staring at her hands, crossed and resting upon her knees, lost in painful memories.

Gerald and Stinky didn't know what to tell her.

"So you switched places with Alexandra." Gerald took it upon himself to summarize. "She became Eleanor and she's the one that went to England, where she ended up committing suicide."

Helga grimaced but confirmed his words.

"Yes."

"But what about the other day… when we came to see Alex—I mean you… I mean…"

Stinky scratched his head, "Dang, this is all so confusing!"

Gerald cut in and helped him.

"Why did you lie to us?" He questioned Helga.

Her expression turned a little apologetic. But not too much since it was Helga and all.

"You have to understand I've been posing as Alex for so long. And hiding out here even longer. When I saw you guys entering the café that morning, I panicked! All I wanted was to remain hidden and facing all of you was too much. I tried to get out, hoping none of you would recognize me…" she rolled her eyes "but I ended up bumping into Eugene and causing that whole scene—"

Stinky spat out the coffee and had been swallowing.

"The hat lady? That was you?!" He exclaimed out of shock.

Helga nodded, once again confirming his doubts.

"I ran home, guessing you would all come here looking for me. I figured you must have found out about my Eleanor charade. So I put on a wig and a little make-up, and pretended to be Alex to get you guys off my back. I believed you would eventually find out about the—" She grimaced again. "About her death. You would all think it was actually me who had died… and I would disappear forever."

Gerald felt his temper rise up.

"So you purposely led us to think you were actually dead?! That you had killed yourself all the way across the world? What is wrong with you woman?!" He scoffed.

"Well gee Gerald-o, I didn't know you cared!" The blond girl ironized.

"I don't! I care about Phoebe who's been missing you all this time! And I care about Arnold! Don't even get me started on him!" Gerald spat, in frustration.

Helga twitched in her seat.

"Arnold?" she asked, suddenly much more shaken then just an instant ago.

"Yes Arnold! Remember him? The guy you supposedly love? The guy who hasn't been himself since you've been gone—"

"I didn't think—I mean I thought he wouldn't care—" Helga answered in a tiny voice.

"Not care? NOT CARE?! Have you MET Arnold?" Gerald yelled even louder. "He is like the definition of caring!"

Helga crossed her arms and retreated further into her chair.

"I meant," she amended, "That I didn't think he would care too much!"

Gerald mouth dropped. He tried to close it back, but it dropped again on its own accord. Basically he was gaping like a fish, eyes wide out of their sockets. Stink decided to help him out.

"Helga!" He explained more patiently. "Arnold's been heartbroken since you've been gone. And since he went to England to get you, and found out you killed yourself… I mean that Alexandra killed herself but he believed it was you and all… " Stinky scratched his head again in frustration "…anyway he's been really depressed!"

Before Helga could reply, Gerald added:

"And that was three years ago you stupid, stupid girl! Three years he's been beside himself with grief and now his grandma just died—"

"Wait… he came looking for me?" Helga asked in broken voice. "And Gertie's dead?!"

"Of course he came looking for you! He fucking loves you!" Gerald bellowed. "He thinks you're like the quintessence of perfection or something!" He added, gesticulating widely.

"He does!" Stinky confirmed. "No one else gets it!"

Helga was shaking her head in disbelief.

"But that day, when he didn't show at the airport! I thought—"

"Brainy hadn't given him your letter!" Gerald sighed, dropping back into his seat, exhausted from all the yelling.

Helga blinked in confusion.

"Oh!" She said.

"Yes 'Oh!' " Gerald said, eyes still glaring daggers at the blond. "Ever considered that little possibility? I mean didn't it ever cross this brilliant mind of yours that your secret admirer could perhaps not be trusted with a love letter you had written for another guy?"

"Or, you know, ever heard of a text?" Stinky added.

But Helga chose to ignore his smartass comment.

"Brainy loved me?" She asked Gerald, looking more and more as a deer caught in the headlights.

Gerald was back up from his seat in an instant, gesticulating in frustration once more.

"OF COURSE he loved you! Are you blind? He basically committed suicide because he thought you were dead! What is your problem girl?" He screamed, looking about ready to strangle her.

"I knew he loved me, I just didn't know he was in love with me!" Helga stretched out.

Stinky blinked and Gerald gave her a stern look so she continued:

"We were good friends, and his aunt and I had both been through some tough shit. He understood me!" She justified.

"How could you do this Helga? Running away for ten years? And how could you make us believe you were dead? What did you make of Arnold? Didn't you think of him?"

Upon his words, Helga rose up from her seat and marched straight to Gerald's face.

"Don't you EVER say that to me again Johanssen!" She articulated, tone like ice. "There wasn't a day that has passed when I haven't been thinking about Arnold!"

"Well you still left didn't you?!" Gerald responded shaking himself off.

Helga slapped him hard.

"I left FOR HIM!" she shouted.

And then a lot of things happen at once.

The front door burst open to reveal Harold, branding out his gun, who proclaimed:

"NOBODY MOVE!"

Followed by Sid who added:

"This is a hold-up!"

While Eugene, who hit him on the head, came in third and said:

"No it isn't!"

And than finally Rhonda arrived, who was texting in the back and hence said nothing. Oh yeah and also, Stinky was so shocked by the whole thing that he dropped his coffee mug.

After all that there was a big awkward silent.

"Guys?!" Gerald asked, confused.

"Great the cavalry's here!" Helga muttered from behind him although no one really paid attention to her.

Sid was shrugging, doing his best at looking casual before starting:

"We were wondering what all the fuss was about earlier at the funeral. So we followed you here! We saw you get into the house and all, and we were going to wait outside!"

"A stakeout!" Harold whispered in a tone of confidence.

"But than we heard shouts, and so we rushed in!" Eugene concluded. "Why did you ran off like that Gerald?"

Gerald thought it was time to explain himself:

"Earlier, I realized that during our whole investigation we had omitted to take into account very important bits of information. The two things we had been told by the people who knew Helga the most!"

"Arnold and Phoebe!" Harold remembered.

" Yes! We had ignored what they had said about how Helga would never leave Arnold and also how she used to be a great actress! And than it clicked. Alexandra Stiles, the suicide, everything which had seemed so wrong to me! I just had this hunch which I followed there and turns out I was right!" He concluded.

"What do you mean?" Harold blinked confused.

Gerald looked at his friends in turn and understood that they had not yet realized who had been standing next to them all along. He stepped away from Helga so the others could take a good look at her, and nudged his head toward her form, just in case they needed the hint.

Eugene understood first. He became white as a sheet and grabbed onto Sid's arm.

"She's alive!" He gasped, just as Sid uttered in horror: "She's a zombie!"

It took Harold a little while longer but finally surprise, then alarm, made their way across his face.

"Madam Fortress Mommy!" He shuddered, pointing towards Helga before passing out.

By then, Rhonda was done with her text and she looked up.

"Pataki!" She cried out, scandalized. "What are you WEARING?"

"Missed you too Princess!" Helga replied, unfazed.

"What is going on?" Eugene demanded, grabbing his head in confusion.

"That's what I said!" Stinky happily remarked from the couch.

"Helga's been hiding out here, pretending to be Alexandra Stiles, while the real Alexandra Stiles moved to England." Gerald explained. "She's the one that killed herself, not Helga. Helga's been mocking us, hiding a few hours away all along!" He concluded, accusingly.

"And for good reason!" Helga scoffed, tired of being blamed for everything.

"Really? Like what? Governmental conspiracy?" He riposted grinding his teeth.

"Stop judging me tall hair boy! You can't even begin to imagine what I've been through!" Helga spat.

"Well start talking Pataki!" Rhonda interfered.

"Who wants popcorn?" Stinky offered joyfully.

In his defense, he had been here a while and he had just figured it sure as hell wasn't over yet. Far from it.

-HA-

The camping trip thing had seemed like a good idea. Or so at first.

The fact was, that Miriam was doing a lot better lately. She was starting to be more aware, more present. Helga was hopeful. Really, a little gleam of light would sometimes pop up inside her eyes. Her mother had come a long way since that day Bob had interrupted a whole different camping trip. One she had taken with her old friends of PS.118. Her dear old dad had showed up in the middle of the night to tell her the news. Miriam had made an attempt on her own life. The recovery center they had sent her to wasn't doing her any good, far from it. If Helga's mother had stopped drinking, her fragile state of mind had nonetheless taken a turn for the worst. So they had brought her home, certain that Miriam would only be able to get better if surrounded and loved by family. It was Olga who had made the decision. She would help take care of Miriam she had said. And so, they had hired a nurse to live in the Pataki household at all times, to assist her in this delicate task. It had been strange for Helga at first but she had gotten used to it after a couple of arrangements. Besides, even though having a troubled parent was difficult to bear, she would gladly take it over having a dead parent. Miriam's suicide attempt had shaken all of them to the core. She had stayed in a coma for three weeks, and Helga had been certain she would never be able to talk to her mom again. But than she had woken and had went home with them. And slowly, little by little, the old Miriam had started to return. True, her awareness was sporadic at best but… sometimes Helga would be able to really communicate with her. Once in a while, she would be able to tell her all about her day, middle school and her new acquaintances. How she longed for those special times, hoped for them every morning as she opened her eyes. She was only twelve after all. She needed a mother. And the times Miriam would awake to consciousness… she would really be there, she would listen. It wasn't like before when her brain would constantly be numbed by a constant intake of alcohol. Before she would be there without really being there. Now, she wasn't there all the time… but when she was, Helga felt like she had her whole attention, like she was loved! Sadly, she thought this was perhaps the happiest she had ever been in her entire life. Her family was coming closer together, to help Miriam get through this. Her father had surprised her, demonstrating true love and care towards his wife. He had taken matters into his own hands, tried to be more present and supportive. And Olga. She had proven herself to her younger sister, displaying maturity, courage and brave optimism since the day they had brought Miriam back from the hospital. She was no longer pretending to be a perfect daughter but instead putting all her energy into actually being a strong, tower of support for the whole Pataki household. Helga and she had grown much closer, better at communicating and more willing to trust. Their relationship no longer felt force, as they had found they truly did need each other.

It all came with a price though. The times Miriam wasn't herself. That was the price to pay for their happiness.

Once, Helga had come into her room to talk with her about her day and have tea. She had instantly seen her mother was out of it. She wasn't really looking at her or responding to anything she was saying. But Helga wanted to be there with her anyhow. The nurse had left for the night, Olga was downstairs making diner and Bob was going to be home from work soon. But right now, her mother was by herself and Helga wanted to be with her no matter her state. She had started telling her about her literature class. She had read the poem she had written. A poem about obstacles and pain which, somewhere along the ride, turned into hope. A poem about them, her family, one of the first she had ever written that wasn't about the boy with the cornflower hair. When she was done, she just sat silently by Miriam's side. Helga found the silence comfortable. Until it all went downhill.

"Why do you keep coming back?" Her mother abruptly asked her.

Helga had shuddered at the emptiness vibrating through her voice. But Miriam had failed to notice. She couldn't.

"Why do you insist on torturing me?" Her mother had carried on, her voice suddenly breaking. "Haven't I suffered enough?"

"Mom…" Helga tried to protest.

But Miriam was yelling now.

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" She screamed. "I didn't mean for it to happen! I wasn't even driving the car! Why won't you leave me alone!"

Helga was shaking her head in disbelief.

"I don't understand!" She said, trying to calm the other woman down.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Miriam lashed out on her in an instant, eyes wide and lost, features tensed in fury and despair. "Stay the hell away from me!"

Her hands were tightening around Helga's throat. She couldn't breathe and her vision was starting to blur. She tried to say her mother's name, she begged her with a look, to please, please, just snap out of it, to recognize her, her daughter. She meant her no arm. Everything was fading.

"You're DEAD! YOU DIED! I saw you that day, on the road! We left your body behind a long time ago! Why do you keep coming back?"

What was Miriam talking about? Who died? Helga's thoughts were slipping away. Her mother was beside herself with fear. But Helga wasn't dead. She would be soon though…

Luckily, Bob barged in and tore Miriam away from her. Helga dropped to the floor, gasping for air, eyes watering and throat burning intolerably.

"MIRIAM!" Bob was trying to calm her. "It's ok! It's Helga! Our daughter! Remember? She's not going to hurt you!"

Miriam was thrashing around in his arm, screaming insanities at the top of her lungs. Helga remembered Olga came in with syringe and than it all went black.

That was the day she had understood her mother's love came with her mother's hate. Because sometimes, Miriam would confuse her with somebody else. Somebody long gone in reality, but who wouldn't leave Miriam's mind. A memory, a terrible secret which had driven Miriam to alcoholism, and later to a severe psychotic breakdown.

And that was their reality.

That was the Pataki's fate. Helga's punishement. She had gotten to keep her parents, in exchange for keeping a murder silent. The dead weighted upon them, condemning them to never really be free. This burden they shared, this burden which had once driven them apart, only brought them closer together.

Helga never knew the ghost's name. Only that she looked very much like her. Blond haired, blue eyed young girl.

So yes, because of all of this the family had had to change its ways. But they were ok now. Almost good even. Miriam was getting better. Lapses of absence were becoming so rare. Hence the outing in the woods.

When she looked back on it now, Helga didn't understand how she had ever been so foolish.

It took ten minutes. Only ten little minutes to shatter their entire world.

Olga and Miriam had gone to take a walk by the river. They had left, arms linked, chirping away brightly.

Helga was helping her dad set up the tent but she had promised to catch up with them. Soon enough it was done, and Bob was settling by the radio to listen on a football match.

So Helga walked on. She walked, happily, by the stream, eager to rejoin the others. She came towards them from behind. All she could see was Miriam's back, but her heart tighten when she noticed her mother was rocking back and forth. That was never a good sign. Plus, she had to be sitting in the water. It wasn't deep, almost unnoticeable but she could still see the clear water flowing upon gray pebbles. What were they doing? Where was Olga?

Slowly, warily, she approached.

"There you are honey." Miriam said, smiling absently.

And that's when her daughter was certain something was very wrong.

First, Helga noticed Miriam hands were covered in a dark red substance. Second, she gathered that her mother was stroking Olga's hair, who was lying at her feet in the water. Finally, she realized the red liquid was blood, pouring into the water from the back of Olga's skull.

Helga's knees started to shake. How she didn't fell flat out on the ground was beyond her. She felt a powerful weight drop right to the pit of her stomach, as there was no doubt inside her mind.

Olga was dead.

"I found the body, Helga!" Miriam told her brightly. "I found it and I made her leave us alone. We're going to be ok now honey!" She said smiling happily. "She going to leave us be!" She added, pointing her head towards Olga.

Helga tried to smile, a feeble attempt and promised she was going to be right back. She ran and ran and finally she was back with Bob and everything seemed like a bad dream then, except it wasn't.

She would remember, always, how Bob's smiled dropped. The determined look that appeared on his face, as he ran with her back to where Miriam and Olga were.

Everything went so fast and yet with such torturous clarity that it engraved Helga's mind with atrociously acute memories. It was all part of her curse, to be condemned to remember such things. A curse to be able to handle things most people would not and to have to live with them everyday for the rest of her life.

They buried her. Olga.

Bob was adamant: no one would know. Olga had left for Europe this weekend, to start a new job. The whole family had driven her to their airport. No one would know, no one had seen them. And if she was ever found, they would all have to act shock.

Miriam was docile and relaxed, while they drove her back toward their car. She was way beyond all of this. She didn't even realize what she had done, which is what frightened Helga the most. Her mother wouldn't even see her eldest daughter was gone because of her. And Bob. What was he thinking?

"Do you want them to take your mother away girl?" he had snarled at her protests. "She won't last a day when they decide to stick her in an asylum. Or do you want her to wait in prison until she receives the needle? Is that what you want? For the whole family to be buried before its time?"

Helga didn't even know what to say anymore. She had thought her mother was the crazy one. But she was starting to doubt her father's sanity now, too. Her world was crumbling. Nothing was right. How she wished she could share her pain with Olga. But Olga wasn't there. Not anymore. All that was left of her was her blood on Helga's clothes.

As they helped Miriam into her seat, Bob noticed him.

Arnold.

He was watching them from afar, looking intrigued. Bob started panicking. It was all over. That dumb orphan was going to rat them out. God what where they going to do? He was about to grab him and intimidate the shit out of him when Helga jumped in. She knew what she had to do. She knew Arnold. She knew how to deal with him, she explained to Bob.

So she walked towards the boy, stared straight into his eyes, and for the first time in her life, she begged him to help her.

"Arnold, I need you to do something for me." She said softly.

He seemed surprised by her tone. Worry started to crease his forehead, as he realized something must have been wrong.

"What is it Helga?" He asked her, as peacefully as he could.

Typical Arnold to worry for her, the girl who was nothing but trouble. Typical Arnold to worry about the daughter of two murderers.

"You must never tell anyone that you saw me here today. Me or my parents. We were never here. It's really important. Ok Arnold?" She pleaded him.

Arnold looked hesitant, confused. He clearly wanted answers, wondering what could have happened to Helga to make her like this.

"But…" he tried to speak but the girl stopped him by grabbing onto his arm.

"Please." She said silently, because she knew him.

Because she knew when she wanted something from Arnold, all she needed was to ask.

-HA-

The whole gang was stunned silent. Helga's story had thrown a dark veil upon the living room, now plunged into grief.

"Well that's just mighty sad!" Stinky ended up concluding.

"I can't believe you've been living with this for so long!" Eugene added, sympathetic.

Helga nodded, looking down at her hands.

"We kept the secret for Miriam's sake. I know it sounds crazy but you have to understand: She had almost died in her recovery home. We didn't want to lose her, not now that we had just lost Olga. It sounds completely contradictory, seeing Miriam is the one that killed her. But she really didn't know what she was doing sometimes. She thought Olga was the ghost of that dead girl, coming back to haunt her. She often believed I was too. We both looked like her apparently. Some sort of twisted punishment from fate, that our mother would see the girl she had tried to bury when she looked at her two daughters."

Gerald blinked as he suddenly understood something. Yeah, he was on a roll that night.

"Wait!" He interrupted. "These bruises you always had at school… You didn't get them from Bob did you?"

Helga shook her head.

"Good point Sherlock. We knew that's what everyone always believed. But no, you're right, Bob never touched me. They were from Miriam."

There was a general gasp of surprise.

"Well is that a massive plot twist or what?!" Sid remarked.

"Living at home was becoming unbearable," Helga went on. "Miriam would attack me randomly. I didn't feel safe there but I didn't want to let her down either. She was still my mom! And Bob, he just wouldn't see how dangerous it all was. How close we constantly were to losing it all. I think her insanity was getting to him. He wanted to convince himself everything was fine. He didn't want to deal with Olga's death. But most of all, he didn't want to give up on my mom. You can say a lot of things about Bob but you can't say he wasn't capable of love. He loved Miriam. He couldn't lose her!" She explained.

"That's so… romantic?" Harold offered.

Helga chuckled sadly.

"So twisted you mean. But I suppose I had to get my crazy love gene from someone."

"So that's why you ran!" Sid guessed. "You felt threatened inside your own house, you wanted out!"

"Without having to betray your family!" Rhonda added. "Without having to turn Miriam in. So you got a job and started selling your fancy clothes so you'd have money to get by."

Helga nodded.

"That's right. A couple a months after Olga died, I started having this idea. I wanted to save enough money to get the hell out of there. And I fleshed out my plan over the years. But I wasn't thinking on leaving so soon. I couldn't have done it on my own! Brainy helped me with that. He had the perfection solution for me…"

"Alexandra Stiles!" Gerald confirmed.

"That's right! She was different. She understood me."

"But why didn't you tell anyone?" Stinky argued.

"I didn't want to implicate anybody! And I didn't tell Brainy anything. I just asked him to help me run and only because I had no other choice! I hadn't planned on leaving so suddenly but I was desperate!"

"What happened?" Eugene asked, intrigued.

Helga turned to him.

"Arnold!" She answered simply.

Everyone waited for her to continue so she added:

"He was asking too many questions."

"Oh I see!" Gerald mocked. "He was being pushy, so you pretended to be dead!"

Helga rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't be a smartass Johanssen. That's not what happened and you know it!"

"What does he know that we don't know?" Harold whispered to Rhonda, confused.

"No one knows anything Helga's not willing to tell us!" Rhonda replied loudly, giving the blond an accusing glare.

" I meant, " Helga said "that I had to ran because Arnold was asking too many questions and it was becoming dangerous. For him."

-HA-

She was getting ready to go to Arnold's house.

That's what sixteen-year-old Helga did now, when she had a bad day. Well, not just a _bad _day seeing how most of her daily life sucked. No, only when she had a really, really terrible days did she allow herself to go to Arnold. She didn't want to reach out to him too much. She was afraid of dragging him, even without meaning to, into her world. A world of gloom, secrets and death… ultimately, a world where happiness couldn't last, only barely bloom. She was afraid she would forget she belonged into this world, forget people like her would never be happy. It was hard not to forget when she was with him. But, if Helga completely forgot, then the reality of her existence would only hit her harder later and she believed such a blow would be her end. For those like her, there was nothing worse than the traitorous illusion of happiness. It would soon be gone, leaving them in search of it the rest of their lives, with no chance of succeeding. Happiness was a bitch! Once you'd tasted it, you were hooked. You needed it. That's why it was so dangerous for people like Helga, people that were born to be miserable. People brought into the world only to handle crap and get out of it alive, drifting through existence until it was over.

The only thing Helga didn't understand was what fate had been thinking when it had dealt Arnold into her life. Had it not foreseen how happy he would make Helga? How difficult it would be for her to remember she was born to be unhappy when he was there smiling at her, giving her hope?

Hope. Another very traitorous thing, hope.

Now Helga needed it, once in a while. Only for a bit. She needed Arnold.

And she was about prepared to go when Bob entered her room. He looked from his daughter to her bag, then at her again with suspecting eyes. In the end it must have been Helga's expression that gave her away. Eagerness. She was never eager for anything. Except for him.

"Where are you going?" Bob asked, careful not to display anything.

She lied and told him she was going to work, she lied as best as she could. And how well could the girl lie. She had years of practice behind her. But if there was one person she couldn't fool, it was Bob. She had developed her art by carefully watching him after all.

"You're going to see that damn orphan aren't you?"

"No, Bob. I told you. I'm going to work."

God she was so good at it. The lies. And he still wasn't buying it. He was giving her this look. It wasn't even menacing anymore. Only wary. Tired. How had it come to this?

Bob spoke:

"I told you not to see him anymore girl!"

"I'm not seeing him! We never talk." She answered, coldly.

Bob frowned.

"You look at me like I'm the bad guy here, kid. Like I'm being unreasonable, forbidding you to see some boy just for the sake of it. We already talked about this…"

"I KNOW but—"

"He was there that day Helga!" Bob interjected.

She was about to say something but she was stunned silent by the fact that he had just used her name. It's not like he called her Olga anymore. But he still didn't usually used her name. So Bob went on:

"If you get close to him, he'll start meddling. Asking questions! Maybe do something drastic, like getting social services! They'll figure out about your mother. And what if someone figures out about Olg- about the other thing?"

"Arnold would never say anything!" Helga argued. "If you just let me tell him the truth! He would never tell on us dad, I know him! And I know we talked about this and you don't believed me but-"

Bob sighed and pressed his palm to his forehead, clearly tired of the discussion.

" I believe you!" He told her, emphasizing his words. "I believe you when you say he wouldn't betray you!"

Helga raised her eyes toward her father, hopeful. Could it be that he was finally seeing the light? That he was finally going to let her confide in Arnold and share her burden with someone? With the person she wanted to share it with most?

"I'm not saying you shouldn't tell him everything because you can't trust him!" Bob continued. "I'm telling you not to tell him, because you can!"

Helga blinked, confused. She let him go on.

"He'll lie to protect you, faithfully. I'm sure he will. But I also so know that this burden, he won't be able to handle it. It'll destroy him."

Helga tried to cut Bob off but he didn't let her.

"He isn't like you and me! He can't cope with things like us! We're Patakis! We deal with shit and we go on! But him? What are you going to tell the boy? That the day you asked him to cover up for you, he actually covered up a murder? That you want him to continue shutting his mouth because otherwise you, your parents and maybe even himself could end up doing prison?"

"He would say anything!" Helga protested again.

Bob shook his head in frustration. He took her by the arm and dragged her to Miriam's room!

"Look at her!" He barked.

Her mother was sitting in a chair by the window, looking passed them. She was pale and thin, bags under her eyes. But most of all she looked distraught, anxious. She was biting her lips and grasping onto her chair like she was holding on to dear life.

Helga dropped her gaze uncomfortable.

"Do you see?" Bob asked. "Do you see what all the lying and the deceiving did to her?"

He looked at Miriam in defeat, at loss, before speaking again:

"It was her idea you know. This cover up. She didn't want me to go to prison. She wanted me to get to know you! Yeah, she was pregnant with you! So she convinced me to stay quiet and she got us through this. Miriam did it because she loved me, she loved you and she loved Olga. She wanted us to stay a family. So she got us through it, and in the end it destroyed her. She got anxious, depressed, she started drinking… She couldn't let go of what we had done. Of what I had done."

Bob moved to face Helga and took her by the shoulders.

"Your mother, she had a good heart!" He sighed and Helga noticed there were tears in his eyes. "She was like Arnold. Kind. Compassionate. You and I, we're different. People like us destroy people like them. Helga, I'm asking you not to tell him because I don't want you to go through what I have with your mother. I don't want you to watch him disappear, leaving a shell of himself behind, because it'll kill him to try and protect you. To wake up one day and realize the person you love destroyed himself for you."

Helga thought about Bob words as she walked to Arnold's place. She had promised Bob she wouldn't tell him anything and she would keep her distance from him. She was sincere about the first part but doubted herself about the second. How could she keep away from Arnold when he was the only thing that ever made her happy? She would simply not tell him about her secret. He didn't need to know anyway right?

She descended into his room by the ceiling, after noticing he wasn't currently in it. He was probably having diner or something. Her heart contracted when she thought he could be on a date at the moment. But she ignored the feeling. Even if he was on a date, he would come back. She would see him.

She settled into a corner and sat, resting her head upon her knees, waiting. Bob words kept playing in her ears. _You and I, we're different. People like us destroy people like them. _Was he right? It's not like she hadn't thought about it herself wasn't it? Was she hurting Arnold by being around him? Helga felt torn. She didn't want to be selfish… but what was she without Arnold?

The boy in question picked that moment to walk in. As soon as he noticed her, his mouth stretch into such a sincere smile it almost made her cry.

"Helga!" He exclaimed, walking towards her.

He looked genuinely glad to see her! Her, Helga Pataki! It made her so happy she thought her heart would break. Arnold sat beside her, taking in her appearance and instantly his eyes were clouded with discontent. He had noticed the new marks on her neck and arms. He asked her, calmly, to tell him what had happened.

She didn't know what to say. She shrugged. All she wanted was to be near him. But he was insisting. He talked about going to the police again, looking more determined than ever. Once more, she begged him not to. Argued, told him they wouldn't get anything out of it, that there was no way out for her. Once more, she let him believe what everyone else believed. That her father was beating her. She almost wished he was, it would be so much simpler to get out of it. She almost wished she was in fact being abused, just so she could be worthy of Arnold's time and worry. If only he knew he wasn't trying to help an innocent victim but a liar, constantly covering for her sister's death. A liar who had dragged him, Arnold, into her web of deceit. What would he think then?

"You can't keep asking me to stand aside, and watch as you get paler, and thinner, with more bruises on you every day!" Arnold was saying. "You can't keep asking me to do that! I'm going to look for a way out Helga! He'll leave you alone, I'll make him! I swear!"

Helga searched his eyes and she knew he meant it. She just knew. He looked so angry. It killed her. Her Arnold, this angry, all because of her. She was changing him, she could see it now. And she was going to have to tell him about Miriam, otherwise he was going to do something stupid. But if she told him… would it destroy him like Miriam?

He was so sincere, honest and kind. He couldn't live with a murder weighting upon his shoulders. He couldn't go on in Helga's world. He didn't deserve to anyway. Arnold deserved better. Better than her.

"Please let me help you!" He said, cupping her cheek, eyes full of worry. "Please?"

She knew what she had to do. She had to run from all this. She had to go, to protect Arnold.

A week later, she was gone.

-HA-

Everyone had gone to sleep. And Helga was left alone sitting still, in Alexandra Stile's living room. It had been painful to tell her old classmates everything that happened to her. Now, she didn't feel liberated and ready to start afresh, move on with her life, live again. She just felt empty and numb. Defeated. Nothing made sense to her anymore. It had made sense to hide here, pretending to be Alex, in a sort of limbo. She had been hiding from her world but mainly form herself, from her pain and her problems. From Miriam, Bob, Olga and Arnold. She couldn't face them. So she hid. And now everyone expected her to go home, because they had found her. They expected her to get better and be happy but couldn't they see that she was broken? She went through the motions of daily life on automatic but really, she was too broken to really live. She was dead inside. Like her family.

Suddenly she heard a noise, which startled her. She followed the sound to a phone, vibrating on her glass table. It was Gerald's phone. She knew because of the caller ID flashing on screen. She hesitated for a few seconds. But she did it. She picked up.

"Hello? Gerald?" She heard the person say on the other end."Hello?

Helga tried to speak. She did. It was just so hard, hearing this voice again. She had missed it so much. She realized, now that she was hearing it again, how much she had missed it.

"Pheebs!" She managed to get out.

There was a big silence on the other end. And then:

"Who's this?" Phoebe asked, shaken.

"It's me." Helga replied, her voice breaking down. "It's me, Pheebs."

She could almost picture her friend shaking her head in disbelief.

"It can't be!"

But hope was piercing through Phoebe's tone. So Helga probed her luck.

"I… I need to see you! Can we? Can I…"

Phoebe agreed. Thank God, or Jesus, or Buddha or whatever, but she agreed and 4 hours later, she and Helga were meeting in front of a fast food on the highway, halfway between their two town!

"It is you!" was the first thing Phoebe said, simply.

The second was incoherent, because she started crying. The went inside, ordered themselves some food that none of them hate and at Phoebe's questioning stare, Helga started talking. She told her everything. Told her about her parents. About Miriam. About Olga. She told her about Arnold, and her plan. Her will to save him from all of it. She told her how she did it too. About Brainy, Alex, Eleanor! She told her about her parent's death and England and the switch. She told Phoebe about all the deaths. She told her about Gerald, how he had figured things out and about the previous night. She told her she was broken and she didn't know what to do with herself anymore.

Phoebe listened. She listened and listened, not once interrupting. She listened, silently handing her long-lost friend a tissue when she, for the first time in years, started to cry. She took her in her arms and the two girls held on to one another, weeping away the pain both of them had endured to last 10 years.

"I'm sorry Pheebs. I'm so sorry!" Helga kept saying.

Phoebe shook her head, silently promising all was already forgiven. That she understood.

But finally, the Japonese girl spoke. She took Helga by the hand and led her outside, saying she knew where her friend needed to be, that she would take her there. And that's exactly what Phoebe did. All the while smiling at the thought of Gerald.

She smiled because she knew he always kept his phone close when they were apart, in. She smiled because she understood her fiancé had expected her call. And Gerald knew that when his phone would ring, Helga would be there to pick up.

.

-HA-

"We had this assignment at school yesterday. Dumbest thing in the world. Really, Simmons totally out did himself this time!" 10 year Helga was ranting.

In front of her, the dark haired Doctor Bliss was listening patiently.

"What was it?" she inquired.

"He asked us to write about our dreams!" Helga shrugged, clearly demonstrating the extent of her disdain for the particular topic.

"And you didn't like this subject?" Doctor Bliss guessed.

"Are you kidding me? What's to like? We're much to old for childish dreams!" Helga answered.

"Are you saying you don't have a dream?" The woman replied.

"To dream is to set yourself up for disappointment." Helga stated plainly. "You know I'm right."

Doctor Bliss smiled sadly. "I suppose." She said.

They sat in silence for a while.

"Helga, you know this is our last session together right?"

Helga shrugged again, staring at a point above her head..

"Yeah, yeah, spare me the tear fest won't ya?" She replied, sassily.

"I'm sorry to be leaving you Helga. I must confess, you were my favourite patient. I will miss you!"

"Why are you going then?" Helga blurted out before she could stop herself.

Doctor Bliss made a face. She was used to Helga's attitude but she didn't like it when she didn't have a good answer for the girl. She might have been young but she was still very intuitive and could read people like a book. Which sometimes made it very delicate when she spoke with her.

"I have to. I've got offered a great position in Chicago. And besides they couldn't afford to keep me here anymore! Even though I would have preferred to stay."

Helga nodded, getting ready to head out. There was nothing left to say anyway. She was up and walking towards the door but just before she reached it, she turned around.

"I want a family." She whispered. "The chance of a real family. A fresh start!"

Her doctor looked at her, careful to pick the right response.

"With Arnold?" She finally guessed.

Her blond patient gave her a little nod.

"Then don't give up on your dreams Helga. Never give up. Who knows? Life may surprise you."

-HA-

Arnold was cleaning everything up. The whole boarding house was a great big mess after the funeral but mostly he needed to keep his mind occupied. His grandmother was gone. And it hurt. Not only because he would never see her again and just the thought was unbearable but also because he had realized her death was just one more step towards him being completely alone in the world. He had tried to be there for people all his life, to be the stable pillar everyone could rely on. But ultimately, he was always alone. Everyone left him. And he felt completely empty. _What was the point?_ He asked himself as he sat down to think about everything. Where was all of it going? Why go on at all? He was tired of it. Tired of trying.

He heard his doorbell ring in the distance, it took him some time to gather the strength to answer the call. And even when he finally rose from his seat, half of his mind was elsewhere, like he wasn't even sure what he was doing anymore. Everything was slow, quiet and bit blurry, an old film with no sound.

But it all changed. He opened in door and suddenly there was colour and sounds again, perhaps even songs, because she was there, standing right in front of him.

Same hair, same mouth, same haunting eyes. Ten years but she hadn't changed at all. She was right here on his doorstep and it now seemed like seconds ago since she last had been. All the time in the world couldn't erase the moment that had started years ago, the moment Arnold hadn't been able to tell Helga how he felt and had ruin everything. Because it all came down to just that in the end. Nothing else mattered when they were together. It didn't matter that she had left, that he believed she had died, it didn't matter why she ran. All that mattered is how they felt. She tried to smile and failed miserably, clearly nervous and uncertain. He tried to speak but nothing came out. Ten long years and still, he couldn't find the right words. Finally, Helga proved to be the braver one once more, when she spoke first.

"Hey Arnold!" She said weakly.

And so finally, Arnold Shortman did what he should have done ten years ago. He took Helga Pataki in his arms.

And he kissed her.

The End

* * *

For real this time, it's the end, no joke, it's over, done, finished! FINALLY!

Thank you again to all of you who have reviewed, especially those who have done so every single chapter! You guys are awesome!

A few extra notes (for the ones who feel like reading) .

- Ending

I hope you don't think the ending is too abrupt. I personally didn't see the point in having a scene with Helga and Arnold talking about everything we already know has happened. They'll work things out, I think it's pretty obvious they belong together. They just needed to find one another. There could have been a scene with the whole gang and big thank yous and loads of "we're so happy", but I don't think it's necessary either! They didn't find Helga to get a thank you. They did it for Arnold to be happy and he will be, now that Helga's back.

- Questions

I'm also hoping the story development wasn't too confusing. I think it's not too bad if you read the whole thing in one go and if you have the last 4 chapters fresh in mind. But otherwise, there is a lot of stuff going on in here, so don't hesitate to write to me in you have questions! I'd love to share your thoughts!

- Brainy

I noticed quite a lot of people seemed confused about why Brainy committed suicide. I tried to answer that in this chapter: because he loved Helga and he thought he had killed her by not giving Arnold her letter (thus, driving her to kill herself out of heartbreak). He didn't know it was actually Alexandra who had killed herself, after taking Helga's name and house.

Also, to be honest, I needed him dead for plot purposes. He's the one that knew where Helga had hid all these years and he was the one that knew about England. So obviously there wouldn't be too much mystery if he was alive (harsh but true).

About his death, I was worried it might seem as though Helga wasn't really sad about it she does not react too much when Gerald talks about it.) Keep in mind that she :

a) knew about it already,

b) has gone through some tough stuff and is bound to be emotionally troubled now, thankfully Arnold should help with that,

c) hides what she feels to protect herself. But she does feels like everyone around her dies, that's why she runs away from Arnold in the first place.

And that's it really! Thank you for reading this!

Merry Christmas and happy holidays! xx


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